Riverboat Blaze Read online

  The Warrant brothers looked to be in their twenties, and if Clint was any judge, they were for hire. Even though Dillon was introducing them as friends.

  They both nodded at Clint. He leaned back and was able to ascertain that they were wearing holsters on their hips. A couple of the other men—Kingdom and Galvin—obviously had guns beneath their jackets. The three businessmen—Dillon’s investors—did not seem to be armed.

  If any of the three women had guns, they were not readily evident.

  “Now that we all know each other, let’s have some drinks,” Dillon said.

  “We’re here to find out the details of our boat’s first cruise, Dean,” Miller said.

  “Sure, sure, we’ll go over that,” Dillon said. “I’ll tell everybody when to be there. But first let’s get some drinks for the table. Waiter!”

  A waiter came over and took drink orders. Clint noticed that Dillon ordered for both Angela and Ava. He also noticed that both women were looking at him, while the men at the table were looking at them. Kathy seemed to grow more and more sullen.

  Clint ordered a beer.

  FOUR

  While they had their drinks, they got acquainted, although it was hard for Clint to talk to anyone but Dillon, who was on his left, and Lou Warrant, on his right. When Ava wanted to speak to him, she’d lean across Lou, who didn’t seem to mind at all.

  Angela sat across from Clint, eyeing him in a way that made him nervous. If she was Dillon’s woman, then they were headed for trouble.

  Or maybe Ava was his woman. Either way there’d be trouble. He’d have to talk to Dillon about it before he got on the boat.

  Over a second round of drinks Dillon told everyone when to be at the docks to either see the boat off or get on board. Apparently, none of the three investors was going to be on board. Clint wondered if that was because they weren’t all that confident about how safe the big boat was. Maybe, like Clint, they had found out how much the boat really weighed.

  After about an hour the three businessmen left. After that Troy Galvin and his sullen girlfriend Kathy left, saying they’d see Dillon on the boat.

  That left Dillon, Clint, Angela, Ava, Johnny Kingdom, and the Warrant brothers.

  “We’re all gonna be on that boat,” Dillon said. “And we’re gonna be family.”

  “Family?” Clint asked.

  “Sam and Lou work for me. So do Angela and Ava.”

  “And Johnny?” Clint asked. He looked at Kingdom.

  “I don’t work for Dean,” Kingdom said, “but we do have an arrangement.”

  “Well, I don’t work for you,” Clint said to Dean.

  “No, you don’t,” Dillon said, “but you’re my guest.”

  “What about Galvin? And his girl?”

  “You call that a girl?” Angela asked. “More like a mouse.”

  “She’s nice,” Ava said, “just a little shy.”

  “You friends with her?” Angela asked.

  “Not friends,” Ava said. “We just talked.”

  “Let’s have another drink,” Dillon said.

  “Not me,” Clint said. “I’m going to walk around a bit. It’s been a while since I’ve been in New Orleans.”

  “Will you walk me?” Ava asked.

  “Where do you want to go, Ava?” Kingdom asked. “I’ll walk you.”

  “No,” Ava said, standing up, “I’ll go with Clint. You stay here with Dean and the boys.” Clint noticed that Ava had not referred to Angela. He had a feeling the two women would never be friends.

  “Will you walk me?” she asked Clint.

  “Sure.” He looked at Dillon. “Dean, see you at the boat.”

  “That’s two days, Clint,” Dillon said. “Let’s have dinner tonight.”

  “Tomorrow night,” Clint said. “I want to spend a day in the city.”

  “Okay, then,” Dillon said. “Tomorrow night. Meet me at Jacques’ at seven.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “So will I,” Angela said.

  “Yeah, baby, you’ll be there,” Dillon said to her.

  “See you then,” Clint said to both of them.

  Clint walked out with Ava hanging onto his arm.

  “Where do you want to go, Ava?” he asked when they were on the street.

  “Wherever you want to go,” she said, squeezing his arm.

  “I thought you had to go somewhere,” he said.

  “Well, I wanted to get out of there,” she said. “Johnny Kingdom had his hands on me under the table. And I don’t like Angela.”

  “You were sitting between the Warrant brothers,” he said.

  “Well, then maybe it was Sam’s hands,” she said. She slid her arm from his. “I just wanted to get out of there, with you.”

  “Why me?”

  She shrugged. “Why not?”

  Now it was Clint’s turn to shrug.

  “Okay, then,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  “I want to go over to Jackson Square,” he told her, “take a look at St. Louis Cathedral, maybe have some jambalaya.”

  “I know a great place for jambalaya,” she said.

  “Well, all right, then,” he said. He took her hand, looped it back inside his arm. “Let’s go.”

  FIVE

  She did, indeed, know a place for some great jambalaya. They stopped there after going to Jackson Square, stopping in St. Louis Cathedral, walking down by the river. They talked the whole time. Clint found out that she was twenty-four, from New Orleans, had been singing in bars there for years. Her father was white, but her mother was Creole, so she was a half-breed. He figured that was where she came by her coffee-colored skin, and her luscious thick lips, and those big brown eyes. She could pass as white if she wanted to, but she never lied about her background.

  “I ain’t ashamed of it,” she said.

  “You shouldn’t be,” he said. “Do you sing as good as you look?”

  She laughed and asked, “How good do I look?”

  “Damn good,” he said. “You’re a beautiful girl, Ava. You know that.”

  They were walking down Bourbon Street as the light began to fade, and she said, “If you take me to your room, I’ll let you see how good I really look.”

  That was an offer he couldn’t pass up.

  Dean Dillon’s hotel was smaller than Clint’s, but more expensive. It was also closer to the docks.

  Down in the bar he sat with the Warrant brothers and Angela.

  “What about Adams?” Sam asked.

  “What about him?”

  “Is he gonna help or not?” Lou asked.

  “He’s my friend,” Dillon said. “If there’s any trouble, he’ll be there. But don’t forget who I’m payin’ to provide security.”

  “Us,” Sam said.

  “That’s right.”

  The Warrants reached out for their drinks.

  “You boys can go now. Angela and I want to be alone.”

  They stopped short of their glasses, exchanged a glance, then grabbed their drinks, stood up, and walked away.

  “We want to be alone?” she asked.

  “Don’t we?” he asked.

  “I’m a dealer,” she said, “not a whore.”

  He smiled, put his hand on her leg, and replied, “Who said I was gonna pay you?”

  As Clint closed the door, Ava moved to the center of the room. There was only a little light left outside, but it was enough to see her. He started to reach for the gas lamp on the wall.

  “No,” she said, turning, “leave it.”

  “I want to see you,” he said.

  She smiled.

  “You will see me,” she said.

  The dress she wore had a scooped neck, but only showed a bit of her cleavage. However, it clung to her closely enough to outline large melon-shaped breasts. She seemed to need only to shrug her shoulders for the garment to fall to the floor. Next, a wisp of fabric from around her waist, and she was naked.

  Gloriously
so.

  Clint had read some books about the Greek gods and goddesses. He thought that what he was seeing now could not be any les beautiful than a Greek goddess. He literally felt breathless while looking at her.

  She raised her arms and twirled around for him. Her dark skin was flawless, her breasts perfect. She had dark brown nipples and a wild pubic thatch, as pitch-black as the hair on her head. There was also some dark hair in her armpits, which only served to make her even more appealing to him.

  “Can you see me?” she asked.

  “Oh,” he said, “I can see you.”

  She stopped twirling and faced him, lowering her arms.

  “And now it’s my turn,” she said.

  He unbuckled his gun and set it down nearby. He wanted to tear his clothes off, but he didn’t want to seem too anxious, so he undressed slowly. By the time he removed his underwear, though, he was fully aroused, and she caught her breath as his penis rose up and pointed at her.

  She walked across the room, confronted him, took his penis into both hands.

  “I spend a lot of time naked,” she said.

  “Not in public, I hope.”

  She laughed. “No, but whenever I am in private, I like it,” she said. “And it suits you.”

  She backed toward the bed, maintaining her hold on him. He had no choice but to follow.

  But he would have, anyway.

  SIX

  Ava was almost as tall as Clint. She was a lot of woman, and Clint felt like the luckiest man alive when he took her into his arms and kissed her. She had a natural, musky odor about her that permeated his nostrils. He kissed her mouth, then her neck and shoulders, finally moving down to her breasts. He took them in his hands, caressed them while he kissed and licked the turgid nipples. Her skin was hot and smooth. As he bit her, she moaned, slid her hands into his hair, holding him tightly to her bosom.

  He let his hands roam over her body, and she suddenly, impatiently grabbed him and took him down to the bed with amazing strength. Once on the mattress, she wrangled him onto his back and straddled him, trapping his penis between them. She rubbed her furry patch up and down the length of him, bracing herself with her hands flat against his chest. He began to move his hips with her, and soon they were both slick with her juices. Finally, she lifted her hips and allowed him to slide right into her, then she sat down hard on him, taking him all the way in.

  The light waned, and she became just a silhouette rising and falling on him, slickly, wetly, hotly. She started to moan, and her moans turned to grunts each time she came down on him.

  He found her rhythm and started moving with her, sliding his hands up over his breasts, around behind her to her beautiful back. She leaned forward then so he could reach her breasts and nipples with his mouth. In that position he was able to slide his hand beneath her buttocks. She soaked them both with her juices, which smelled both sweet and sharp. In fact, the smell became so intoxicating that Clint also wanted a taste.

  He tried to turn her, and for a moment they wrestled, both grunting with the effort, but finally he got her onto her back and slid down between her legs. He parted the curtain of hair with his fingers, then probed with his tongue. He began to lap at her, tasting her sweetness, causing her hips to jerk and a gasp to come from her mouth each time he touched her. Once again she reached for him, wrapped his hair in her fingers, and held him there. At one point she was even rubbing his face into her crotch, and he thought she was almost strong enough to hold him there and drown him in her wetness.

  He slid his hands beneath her buttocks again, cupped them, and lifted her so that he was in control of her. As he continued to lick and suck her, she released his head so she could beat her fists on the mattress and then take handfuls of the sheets.

  Finally, she trembled and then cried out as she once again gushed and—in a sharp reversal—started to push him away while her orgasm overtook her . . .

  Dillon walked Angela to her room.

  “How about a nightcap?” he asked.

  “We just had a nightcap,” she said. “In fact, several.”

  “Then how about just asking me in?”

  “No,” she said. “What about your Creole singer?”

  “Ava? She just works for me.”

  “So do I.”

  What’s goin’ on, Angela?” he asked. “I thought this was where we were headin’.”

  “Maybe,” she said, unlocking her door, “it’s just taken too long to get here. Good night, Dean.”

  She went into her room and closed the door in his face.

  Shaking his head, he turned and walked down the hall.

  Inside the room, Angela leaned against the door and listened to Dean Dillon’s retreating footsteps. Maybe she and Dean were heading here, but that all changed when Clint Adams sat across from her. Now he was probably with that Creole bitch, who had thrown herself at him like the bitch in heat that she was, but that would change. Once they were on the boat, that would change.

  Clint didn’t allow Ava any time to regain her breath. He turned her over, receiving little or no resistance this time. He lifted her up onto all fours, then slid his hard dick up between her thighs and into her. She gasped and shuddered, and then he began taking her, first in long, easy strokes, but little by little increasing the tempo, until he was slamming himself into her and she was crying out.

  Once she found his rhythm, she began to slam back against him as he drove into her, and pretty soon the familiar sound of flesh slapping flesh filled the room.

  SEVEN

  THE PRESENT

  The fire began to spread . . .

  “Clint,” Angela said, holding his arm tightly. “What’s happening?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “Have you seen Dean or Ava?”

  “No.”

  “The Warrant brothers?”

  “I thought I saw Sam go overboard.”

  “Fall overboard?”

  She shook her head. “It looked to me like he jumped.”

  “Then Lou probably went over first,” Clint said. “Those two do everything together.”

  “What do we do?” she asked.

  The boat listed heavily to one side again, and he said, “I think we’re going to have to do the same thing, Angela. This boat is going down.”

  “But . . . that’s supposed to be impossible.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I know.”

  THREE DAYS EARLIER . . .

  Clint looked up at the Dolly Madison from the dock. It was an impressive boat, no question about it.

  “What do you think?”

  He turned. It was Miller, one of the backers.

  “Impressive,” Clint said.

  “Big,” Miller said.

  “Why aren’t you going?” Clint asked. “You and your partners?”

  “Like I said,” Miller answered, “big. I don’t see how something like this can even float.”

  “I know what you mean,” Clint said. “When Dean told me how much it weighed—”

  “Don’t tell me,” Miller said. “I don’t want to know.”

  “Guess I can’t blame you.”

  “Hello, Clint.”

  He turned and saw Ava, looking lovely in a blue dress and shawl. Her short black hair was kind of spiky, as if all she had done that morning was run her fingers through it.

  They had spent a day together, but not last night. They both had to get their belongings ready to move to the boat. Dillon had their bags picked up for them in the morning.

  “Good morning, Ava,” Clint said.

  “Mr. Miller,” Ava said.

  “Hello, Ava,” Miller said, looking uncomfortable. “I’ll, uh, I have some things to do. Nice to see you, Adams.”

  They both watched the man walk away.

  “He doesn’t like Creole people,” she said.

  “You’re only half-Creole,” Clint said.

  “He can’t tell the difference,” she said. “Have you seen Dean this morning?”

  �
�No, not yet. Maybe he’s on board.”

  “Will you escort me aboard?” she asked.

  He put his arm out and said, “It will be my pleasure.”

  They walked up the gangway together.

  From the deck Sam and Lou Warrant watched Clint and Ava walk onto the boat together.

  “Think he’s gonna be a problem?” Sam asked.

  “Naw,” Lou said. “He don’t know what’s goin’ on, and he’s gonna be busy sniffin’ around Ava.”

  “I aim to do some of that sniffin’ myself,” Sam said.

  “Not me,” Lou said. “I’m gonna be sniffin’ around Angela.”

  “Don’t like blond hair,” Sam said.

  “Don’t matter,” Lou said, “’cause I’m gonna have her facin’ the other way.”

  “Hey,” Sam said, “maybe we can do that together.”

  “You said you don’t like blondes.”

  “Well,” Sam said, “if she’s facin’ the other way . . .”

  The Warrant brothers were on the second deck, watching Clint and Ava enter on the first deck.

  Up on the third deck Dean Dillon was looking down on everything. This had to turn out right, he thought. Not only did he have investors to answer to, but he had all his own money tied up in the Dolly Madison. That was why he wanted Clint on board. He knew if there was any trouble, the Gunsmith would be able to handle it.

  “How’s it look, Boss?”

  Dillon turned and looked at his second in command, Mike Chambers.

  “Everything’s goin’ smoothly, so far,” he said. “I have to talk to the captain. Why don’t you stay here and watch things.”

  “Sure, Boss.”

  Dillon took one last look around, then turned and walked to the wheelhouse.

  EIGHT

  Clint was standing on the deck with Ava when Dean Dillon finally appeared.

  “’Mornin’, you two. Glad you made it.”

  “Dean,” Clint said. “We were wondering how we were going to find our way to our cabins.”