Demanding Satisfaction [Bride Train 9] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Reece Butler Page B

that her breasts quivered. She could almost see Sam’s face between them.
    “That’s how to attract men,” said Victoria. “My mother tried to teach me to do that, but I refused.” Her own face pinked up. “I’ve since found it useful.”
    “I bet you have,” replied Beth with a wink.
    “You need enough of a swagger to say you know how to play on a bed, but with a hint that you want to learn more,” said Lily. “Capture their interest, yet hold them back. If you’re too easy to touch they won’t appreciate you.”
    “But I’ll only be dancing.”
    “That is the plan,” said Lily. Her smile faded. “But when men drink around loose women, things change. You’ll have to be prepared for the worst.”
    “The worst?”
    “You’ll likely be pawed. You may even be forced upstairs.”
    “No!” Victoria stood up. “We can’t ask Sophie to do that. There has to be a way—”
    “Not without the chance that Mr. Isaac will be gone by the time we can make another plan,” said Lily firmly. Victoria finally nodded her agreement and sank back on her chair.
    “I said I’d do it,” said Sophie. Her tight throat made her words come out higher than normal. “None of you had much say in your life. I am making this choice, for myself. I asked for adventure and I will have it.” She faltered for a moment before taking a deep breath and continuing. “If I have to bed a man to capture this beast, then I will.”
    “It could be far worse,” said Lily solemnly. “Sarah has a brand on her hip. You could end up with one as well.”
    Sophie hated pain and burns were the worst. But if these women could endure, so could she. She swallowed hard and lifted her head.
    “If I’m branded while bringing justice, I will wear it with pride.”

Chapter 11
     
    “Buford Hames will meet me behind the Golden Nugget in an hour,” said Max to Sam after closing the door to their hotel room. “I want you backing me up. He thinks I want news on Smythe’s dirty dealings.”
    Max had rented a corner room on the second floor across the street from Smythe’s saloon. It was just one of his many businesses. Their orders were to find out whatever they could about him, watch him until the railroad men arrived, and then assist the law however they could. The evidence pointed to Smythe, but the crooked judge couldn’t be ruled out. Since the railroad barons had more money than Smythe to buy a jury, he’d be found guilty no matter what. But Max believed in justice. He wanted to gather enough proof to haul the prisoner East for a proper trial.
    “Hames still wearing that ugly green plaid suit?” asked Sam. As the sun was still up, he’d had to stay in the room while Max was out so there wouldn’t be two of them wandering about.
    Max nodded, then cocked his head. He held up his finger to stop Sam’s further questions as someone came down the hall. The slow shuffle and thump sounded like a heavyset person with an injured leg. A scrape against the wall meant he might be drunk and was using it to stay upright. The off-key version of the song presented by one of the dancers at Ruby’s Saloon seemed to confirm it. The doorknob rattled. Max waited. A quiet three knocks followed by a sharp one had him nodding at Sam. He pulled the door open. A heavyset man stumbled into the room, totally in character with the drunk he pretended to be. His scruffy brown hair matched his long moustache and beard. He smelled as if more beer and cheap whiskey had missed his mouth than went in. But the keen brown eyes meeting Max’s held a spark of intelligence that didn’t fit his behavior, clothing, or stench.
    “Took you long enough to get here,” scolded Max.
    Joshua Gibson straightened to his full height, two inches beyond that of his older twin brothers, and glared down at them. “This is the last time I’m hiding in the corner like a played-out miner spending his last flakes of gold on rotgut.”
    “You’re just upset the ladies don’t fall for