Free Montana (Modern Mail Order Bride Book 2) by Olivia Gaines Page B

mean.”
    “What will it mean to you, William?”
    “It means that diversity is a way of life and we are a part of the new America.  Our children are the new America and the new generation of storytellers,” he said to his wife.
    That was a vision that worked for her and it worked well. Building a new life and future with him would definitely give a new richness to her writing. She was anxious to also read some of his words.
    What variety of storyteller are you, William?

10. Late Night and Lasses...
    H is warm leg touched her thigh, pressing closer against her in the bed. Pecola pretended to be asleep as if that was going to help her situation.  It wasn’t as if she wasn’t attracted to him; she was more attracted to his brain. The body was awesome as well, but sexually, he had not awakened the woman in her. He was ready for some jostling, but she was only ready for some form of rest.  Truthfully, she wanted to get back up and write, but that would probably hurt his feelings more than the upcoming rejection was going to do.
    “Pecola,” he whispered.  Feathery light kisses were planted along her arm in the darkened room as her husband moved closer, his excitement pressing into her back.  “Will you have me tonight?”
    When he said it like that, she felt guilty.  I am his wife.  I am supposed to take care of him.  He has worked hard all day and all I did was write a chapter then made some pasta for dinner. I don’t want him inside of me again until ... She didn’t know what she would need to push the lovemaking forward.
    “William,” she said, turning in the bed to face him.
    He was eager.  Hands were reaching for her, tugging her nightgown up while his body shifted in the bed.  “I can’t stand it much longer, Honey,” he told her, pushing closer to her.  Thick fingers pressed into her skin, pulling her thighs apart.  She closed them back. Billy Joe wasn’t giving up that easily. “All I’ve been doing for the past two days was waiting for you to say you wanted me,” his breath was hoarse.
    Pecola tried to speak but his mouth found hers.  Hungry kisses rained on her as he moved over her, pulling her underpants down and her nightgown higher up. Anxious fingers probed, poked, and prodded.  He stopped when he felt no moisture.
    “Damn,” he said as he rolled onto to his back.
    “William....” she started.
    “Good night, Pecola,” he said to her and turned his back.  Angry fists pumped at the pillow, shoving it under his head as he exhaled a deep breath.  She listened to the sound of his breathing; he wasn't sleeping.
    “I need a bit more romance, that’s all,” she told his back.  “I mean, it’s not as if you were building up to it all day.  You shower, plop down, and then decide you want to jostle me up.  I don’t want our marriage to be that way...or our sex life. I want to crave you...hunger for your touch...be ready before you reach for me...William. Take the time to bring me into the story in your head... create the exposition for me....”
    He said nothing.  It was his turn to pretend he was sleeping. It hadn’t been that long since he had a few dates, but they had all been more than eager and more than willing.  Ready wasn’t even an issue, but this was something new to him.  It wasn’t as if he were some cavalier cowboy, but willing women had never been an issue. I have to romance my own damned wife?
    It was silliness to him.  Plain old silliness.  An exposition.  I will give her an exposition!  I will walk in the house with my junk hanging out and tell her to be my damned wife.  How is that for exposition?
    Eventually, both husband and wife fell asleep.  Somewhere in the middle of the night, Pecola rose to find her tablet.  Furious words flew across the monitor as she wrote the angry trail bosses’ reaction to being snubbed by the widow in the wagon. 
    Caleb’s anger nearly poked a hole in his pants. The widow tried desperately to get him to understand