Sinful desires{steamiest short stories}

“You are Jeb Carson?” She asked again. “The Jeb Carson who wrote to me?”

“The one and the same. Miss Delilah Harris.” The rancher replied, smoothing down his graying mustache. “Or should I say Mrs. Delilah Carson.”

Jeb Carson, one of the more successful cattle ranchers in the small town of Jorgen Creek sat across the table, looking at the young woman from the big city back East.NôvelDrama.Org © 2024.

His mail order bride had arrived by stage coach earlier that evening. She looked every bit the young, nubile city girl her black and white picture he held in his hands depicted.

“You looked a lot younger in the picture you sent me, Mr. Carson.” She eyed him suspiciously.

“That’s an old one taken a few years ago.” He said, smiling slightly. “It’s too gosh darn expensive to have a picture taken out here, you know.”

“Well, I didn’t think you were so much older than I am.” The young woman looked around the sparse room.

“Are you the owner of the Carson Cattle Ranch?”

“Sure, I am… it has my name on it, doesn’t it?” He replied with a hint of irritation.

“I don’t see much of anything around here to speak of your fortune.” She waved her hands around in the air.

“I don’t like to acquire things I don’t really want to have.” He pushed up the brim of his ten gallon hat.

“Really, then what made you think you needed a wife?”

“Are all city gals like you, Miss Harris?”

“What do you mean?” She raised her eyebrows.

“You’re darn outspoken for a young lady.” His voice was gruff. “Out here that’s considered pretty bad manners. How old are you then?”

“I’m old enough to be a wife.” She almost snapped.

“How old?”

“Nineteen, since last winter.”

“Hmm, young enough for a good time and old enough

to bear me some sons. I think I made a good choice here.”

“I wish I did the same, Mr. Carson. How old are you?”

“Spunky lass, aren’t you?” He gave her a tight smile.

“I’m old enough too.”

“I hope I’m not too old, for my sake.” Her smile was sweet.

“Feisty little filly. This one will take some breaking in.” Carson thought. “And I’m going to enjoy doing it.”

His keen eyes held her bright blue gaze, lingering over the soft curves of her heart shaped face. A strand of dark brown hair fell across her brow, free from the tightly tied rest, enhancing her youthful beauty.

He trailed down her supple neck, her round shoulders and the enticing bulge of her bosom. Her slender waist and full hips met his approval. The gray long flowing dress she wore accentuated her young womanhood to perfection. Yes, indeed, he had chosen wisely.

He shuffled the paperwork on the desk, the documents that decreed them legally man and wife. It had been a hard decade, out in the frontier, setting up his ranch, working tirelessly under a hot merciless sun for years.

He had no time to think about his wife and family, until now. Nearing forty, he suddenly felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. He had what he wanted. The largest cattle ranch for miles and the best stock of steers for fresh meat at the market.

His brand was well known and sought after from every corner of the country.

It was time to enjoy the fruits of his labors; time to share his abundant life with a loved one. But good women were few and hard to find in the wild frontier of the west. Getting a mail order bride, the latest innovation, was the only way for a man to acquire a decent wife for himself.

He liked Delilah Harris from the very first letter he received from her in response to his request at the post office. And after a few exchanges he was sure that she was the one he had been waiting for. It didn’t matter that she was nearly half his age.

What mattered was that he would not have another lonely night.

“Well, Miss Harris, I’m sure you’re tired from your long journey,” He leaned forward on his desk. “By railroad from the big city and then by stagecoach from the railway station at Fort Wesley.”

“I must say that I am.” She nodded. “I didn’t think this town was too small for the railroad.”

“The works are underway.” He gave her a smile.

“Jorgen Creek will soon have its own railway station next year.”

“Well, Mr. Carson, if you’ll excuse me.” She stood up.

“As you pointed out, I am tired and would like to refresh myself.”

“Yes, of course.” He stood up with her and smiled again. “Your bags have been taken to the bedroom. Juanita will show you where it is.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“And yes, supper will be served at eight.” He added. “I’d expect you’d want to join me.”

“Yes, I would.” She bowed slightly and walked away, following the little housekeeper.

Carson watched her leave, admiring her sensual swaying stride. He rubbed his hands, it would take some time getting used to her; a woman who clearly had a mind of her own.

Carson loved the idea, he welcomed it. It would bring some excitement to his otherwise tedious life.