Page 29 of Honoring Freedom

Sliding his fingers inside her passage, she was wet again. Her moans were carried away by the breeze that suddenly felt invigorating because inside the blanket they were toasty.

She reached down, unzipped his jeans, and slid her hand inside his boxers, lifting his cock out. Her tight grip skated up and down his length and each glide of her hand only made him needier. Spreading her legs, she hooked her knees on his sides while she gripped his shoulders.

Grabbing his cock, he guided himself into the V of her thighs and slowly, inch by delicious inch, he slid into the tight grip of her channel. Her damp heat wrapped around him as he thrust in and out. They held onto one another under the blanket while the rain poured down outside the porch.

*****

Pok gave a shiver. He wasn’t cold under the warm jacket, but he was triggered watching Keller lay his hands all over Freedom again.

Neither had seen the mess he’d left of the windshield.

He had fantasized at least a dozen ways to get rid of the doc. Ranging from throwing him off the nearest cliff to poisoning him. Pok needed to exercise patience. Soon, very, very soon, Freedom would need Pok. She’d see him instead of looking straight through him.

Gritting his teeth, he envisioned himself storming up to the cabin, breaking the doc’s neck and Pok being the one to satisfy Freedom’s carnal desires. What he wouldn’t give to hear her say his name.

Anger surged through him when her moans reached his ears. He was too close. He could be spotted, but a part of him didn’t care. He drove all the way to get a glimpse of her. Neither she nor Keller saw him at the bar or the auction. He could have easily taken Keller out or did what he ached to do. Steal Freedom away. Once she was alone with Pok, she’d see that he was the man for her.

He leaned his back against the tree, unzipped his jeans and took out his limp dick. As fury surged through him, he pumped himself, little good it did. He shoved himself back into his jeans and cursed under his breath. He needed a woman’s touch to get him there.Freedom’s touch.

Giving the couple on the porch one last glance, Pok retraced his path through the woods and back to his truck. Soon, very soon, his life would be different. He’d have Freedom even if it killed him.

Little did he know until ten miles later that he’d lost the item of Freedom’s clothing he’d stolen. He must have dropped them on the ground.

With deep sorrow, he punched the steering wheel repeatedly until his knuckles bled.

Chapter Eleven

Sam looked from each of his daughters where they sat in his office. He refrained from lighting the cigar he held between his lips. He might be able to handle one of his daughters objecting to his smoking, but he didn’t want all of them angry.

Freedom shifted in the leather chair wondering why her father had called all the girls together. The last time they were called into his office they were each reprimanded for sneaking into a local factory and releasing all the chickens from their cages. Looking at him, she thought he did wear an irritated expression.

He couldn’t possibly be angry with her about anything. She’d gone to the auction with Keller and they’d brought back the finest horses and livestock. Had he heard about the altercation between Keller and Kent? Had he heard that people suspected that she and Keller were dating?

Now they were sleeping together and should Daddy ask, she wouldn’t lie.

“Why are we all here?” Honor asked.

“I’m getting to that.” He laid his unlit cigar on the desk eyeing it like he wished he could partake. He eased his long, lean body into the chair and entwined his fingers on his stomach, looking a bit uncomfortable.

Lately, Freedom had noticed that he didn’t seem quite like himself, almost like he had something weighing on his mind. She looked down the row of her sisters, checking if anyone looked guilty outside of herself. Liberty looked like she’d been sucking on lemons.What had she done?Or rather, what disagreement had she and Daddy gotten into this time? They often butted heads, but usually they settled things quickly and didn’t involve the rest of the siblings. The sisters had learned a long time ago not to involve themselves in each other’s quarrels.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.” He hedged, looking more uneasy by the second. “It’s a bit complicated.”

“Complicated?” Freedom said.

“You girls won’t like it, but I trust it’ll all make sense one day.” Sam took a sip of his coffee in the chipped and glued cup that Freedom had made him when she was five. The coffee must have gone cold because he made a disgusted sound under his breath. She remembered how proud she’d been when she gave him the cup for Father’s Day.

The hairs on her neck lifted in warning. During their family meetings she was usually the quiet one, the one who listened and observed, saving the talking for the others. A person could learn a lot just by watching, and she’d learned her father’s mannerisms. His slightly red face and thin lips told her a bomb was about to be dropped.

Sam shifted in the chair and set the cup away from him so he wouldn’t grab it again out of habit. “Girls, I’m not getting any younger. And neither are any of you.”

“Daddy, that’s not very nice,” Hope said. “It’s not very gentlemanly to mention a woman’s age.”

“I think he’s referring to Honor and me,” Liberty said quietly.

“Does that mean you did something?” Justice asked Liberty.

“Let’s not point fingers here,” Hope buffered.