The Gunsmith 385 Page 7

  Tugging at his belt, Laura unbuckled it so she could loosen his pants and pull them down while lowering herself to her knees in front of him. He set his gun down on the ground right next to them. His cock was already hard and it became even harder as she slowly moved her mouth toward it. Clint could feel her hot breath moments before Laura’s tongue flicked along the tip of his penis. “That’s the way,” he said while sliding his fingers through her hair. “Just like that.”

  Laura reached around to hold his hips with both hands while easing him all the way into her mouth. Once her lips closed around the base of his shaft, she began sucking on him noisily. Her head bobbed back and forth as her tongue slid over every inch of his thick member as though she were savoring a stick of candy. Then, she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock until he felt his toes curling inside his boots. It wouldn’t be long before she pushed him over the edge, so Clint moved her head away and took a step back.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked with a pout. “Didn’t you like that?”

  He helped her to her feet and said, “You know damn well I liked it.” There was a bale of hay nearby. He took her there and spun her around so her back was facing him. Then he anxiously peeled back the layers of material separating him from what he was after. Once all of Laura’s garments were removed, he could see the rounded curve of her ass, which led up to the gentle slope at the small of her back. He ran his hands up and down those curves until she began to moan softly like a cat purring in contentment. She placed her hands flat upon the hay bale, and looked back at him over her shoulder.

  “Don’t make me wait for it,” she said.

  Never one to refuse a lady, Clint positioned himself behind her and guided his cock between her thighs. Her warm pussy was dripping wet, and Laura moved her legs apart to allow him to slip inside with ease. When Clint grabbed her hips with both hands, Laura tossed her hair back and grunted while taking every inch of him inside.

  He kept one hand on her hip while placing the other at the small of her back. That way, he could feel every one of her movements as she responded to him. When he pumped into her, Laura’s muscles tensed. When he eased back out again, she let out a breath and rocked back as if desperate for him to fill her once more. Soon, he found himself pounding into her harder.

  “Yes,” she groaned. “God, yes.”

  When he buried his cock all the way into her, Clint reached forward to grab a handful of Laura’s hair. She dug her fingers deep into the hay bale as he gave her hair a tug and thrust into her again. Soon, Clint could feel her pussy gripping him tighter and her entire body start to tremble. He gave her rump a smack that was just loud enough to be heard before he drove into her again. Laura cried out as she climaxed, but Clint didn’t ease up.

  First, he placed his hands on her shoulders while continuing to pump into her from behind. Laura was breathless and moaning softly for him to keep fucking her. Then, Clint cupped her breasts with both hands as they swayed in time to his movements. He rubbed her plump tits and teased her nipples, which was enough to drive her to new heights. Finally, he moved his hands back to her hips so he could finish what he’d started.

  The sensations continued to build in Clint’s body and the heat inside him grew to a blaze when he looked down to see Laura’s rounded ass in his hands. She grunted and groaned like an animal, which was music to his ears. Soon, the pressure inside him reached its peak and Clint impaled her one last time.

  He straightened up and let out a slow breath as he emptied into her. When he loosened his grip on her, she moved forward until he slipped out of her so she could turn around to face him.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  They got dressed and she showed him what stalls to put their horses in. She helped him by unsaddling and brushing down Travis’s horse, and they put feed out for both of them.

  “How do I look?” she asked.

  “Great.”

  “Out of breath.”

  “Maybe,” he said, “but that would make two of us.”

  “Think Travis will know what we been up to?”

  “Maybe not,” he said, “and speaking of Travis . . . why me, and not him? He’s younger, better looking—”

  “I went for experience,” she said. “I don’t think I made the wrong decision, do you?”

  “Definitely not.”

  She smiled. They left the barn together and walked back to the house.

  As they entered the kitchen, Travis said, “I was just about to bring him back out there.”

  “He’s done already?” she asked.

  “Wolfed it down,” Travis said.

  “Okay, then, better take him back out there and tie him up good.”

  “I’ll stay out there, too,” Travis said. “I’m ready to bed down, and we want to get an early start.”

  “Whataya gonna do with me?” Davis demanded.

  “We don’t know yet,” Clint said. “Just be grateful we fed you.”

  “Well, I didn’t do noth—”

  “Shut up!” Travis said, swatting the back of Davis’s head.

  “I’ll be right out,” Clint said. “One last cup of coffee.”

  “Sure.” Travis turned to the outlaw, pulled him up from his seat by the back of his shirt. “Come on, you.”

  He pushed him out the door ahead of him.

  Laura covered her mouth and looked at Clint.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You think he knows? And he thinks he’s leavin’ us alone so we can . . . you know.”

  “Well, we already . . . you know . . . I do need to get an early start tomorrow. And I’m tired, for some reason.”

  “Maybe,” she said with a mischievous smile, “I should have picked the younger man.”

  “Just give me another cup of coffee, woman,” Clint growled at her.

  * * *

  Clint walked back to the barn after his last cup of coffee and found that Travis had set himself up across the building from Davis, who was tied up and snoring.

  “I see you got him bedded down all right,” Clint said.

  “Yeah, although I don’t know how he can sleep so soundly all trussed up like that.”

  “It’s the sleep of the guilty,” Clint said.

  “Huh?”

  “A guilty man sleeps soundly because he knows he’s guilty,” Clint said. “An innocent man lies awake, worried that he’s going to be blamed for something he didn’t do.”

  Travis frowned and said, “I guess that makes sense.”

  “That’s the way it was explained to me anyway.”

  “Enjoy your last cup of coffee?” Travis asked, changing the subject.

  “I did, thanks.”

  “You sure you want to sleep out here with us peasants?” Travis asked.

  Clint grabbed his bedroll and walked to one of the empty stalls.

  “Why don’t you just go on and sleep in the house?” Clint asked.

  “Hey, the lady never looked at me twice,” the younger man said.

  Clint dropped his bedroll down on the floor of the stall. A few feet away was the bale of hay he and Laura had used. He was surprised it didn’t bear the outlines of their bodies.

  “So what do we want to do tomorrow?” Travis asked, sounding as if he was stretching at the same time.

  “Laura says she’ll make us breakfast, and then we can get an early start,” Clint said.

  “Seems to me you still got time to sneak over to the house—” Travis started.

  “Will you go to sleep,” Clint snapped.

  “Why don’t you both shut up and go to sleep so I can sleep?” Davis whined.

  “See what you did?” Clint said to Travis. “You woke up the bad man.”

  Clint heard deep breathing from Travis’s direction, couldn’t believe that the man had fallen asleep while he was talking to
him.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  In the morning Laura made eggs for them to the best of her abilities. They were a little dry, but hot.

  “These eggs are really—” Davis started to complain, but a hard look from Clint changed his mind. “Good.”

  “If you had just asked me to sell you a horse, I probably would have,” Laura said. “And then I might have even cooked you a meal.”

  Davis was young, just a little older than Travis, and probably did very well with the ladies. Clint wondered what else he would have gotten if he had been the only man there.

  “That brings up a problem,” Travis said.

  “What’s that?” Clint asked.

  “We need a horse for Davis.”

  Clint looked at the man and said, “Well, we could make him walk.”

  “Aw no . . .” Davis said.

  “I can lend you a horse,” Laura said. “You can leave it for me at the livery in Millard.”

  Clint and Travis exchanged a glance.

  “I guess that means we’re goin’ to Millard,” Travis said.

  “Or,” Clint said, “one of us could go to Millard and the other could stay on the trail.”

  “And which one of us do you have staying on the trail?” Travis asked.

  “Well, me, of course,” Clint said.

  “And so you’ll catch up to them and have nobody to watch your back.”

  “You’ll catch up to me before then,” Clint said.

  “Maybe.”

  “All right, then,” Clint said, “we’ll both go to Millard. It’s not that big a detour.”

  “I could take him to Millard,” Laura said.

  They both looked at her.

  Sure,” she said. “Tie him up and throw him in the back of my buckboard. I’ll take him to the sheriff and tell him what happened.”

  “Do you have a gun?” Travis asked.

  “A rifle,” she said. “I was out in the barn when he got here, and my rifle was in the house, or I would’ve run him off. Believe me, I can take care of myself.”

  Again, Clint and Travis exchanged a glance.

  “Hey, the lady can take me,” Davis said. “I won’t try nothin’.”

  “If you do,” she said, “it’s the last thing you’ll ever try.”

  “What do you think?” Travis asked.

  “Oh, come on,” she said. “I have to go to town for supplies anyway. What harm can he do tied up?”

  “We wouldn’t lose any time this way,” Clint said.

  “But I’ll do it under one condition.”

  “What’s that?” Clint asked.

  “That you stop here on your way back and tell me what happened.”

  “It’s a deal,” Clint said.

  “Then we better all get ready to go,” Travis said.

  * * *

  About twenty minutes later Clint and Travis dumped Davis, trussed up even better than he had been overnight, into the back of Laura’s buckboard. She was sitting in her seat with her rifle propped next to her.

  “Now don’t stop anywhere along the way,” Clint said. “Just get him to town as quickly as you can.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said, “I can handle this.”

  They went to the livery and brought their saddled horses out. They rode part of the way with her, but when the road forked, she headed for Millard, and they headed north.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Sitting at a table in the Queen of Hearts Saloon in Waco, Tom Barry nursed a beer and tried to figure out how to get rid of his men.

  Kane and O’Brien were standing at the bar. Hastings was off someplace with some whore. It occurred to Barry that if he could get Kane and O’Brien killed in a bar fight, he wouldn’t have to worry about them anymore. And he could tell Hastings it wasn’t his fault.

  He looked around him, spotted two tables with poker games going on. Both games had house dealers. At one table the chips were pretty much evenly distributed. The other table, however, presented a different story. One player had most of the chips in front of him. Three of the other players didn’t seem to mind that much, as if their attitude was “ho hum, just another night of losing money . . .”

  One man, however, was not as resigned as the others. Barry could see that if he was any madder, he’d have steam coming out of his ears.

  This was his man.

  Barry watched and listened, saw the man throw his cards down and exclaim, “How the hell—I just can’t figure it.” He was getting furious.

  All Barry had to do was wait . . .

  * * *

  Tracy Hastings stared out the window of the whorehouse. He knew down deep that after Tom Barry managed to get rid of both Kane and Irish O’Brien, he’d get rid of him, too. And for only four thousand dollars. The best thing for him to do would be to ride out now and forget about it. Only he couldn’t. He didn’t want to let Barry get the better of him.

  “Hey, baby,” the whore said from behind him. “You gonna leave me like this?”

  He turned and looked at her. She had a wide ass, big pendulous breasts, was forty if she was a day, but it had been a while since he’d been with a woman. She had nice skin, and she smelled good. He’d been right in the middle of fucking her when he started to think. When he started to think, his dick got soft.

  “Come on, baby,” she said, “I’ll get it hard for you again. I know just how to do it.”

  “I bet you do,” Hastings said.

  “Don’t make me come over there and grab you by your tallywacker,” she said. “Bring it over here and I’ll suck it dry.”

  He felt it twitch. He loved it when a whore talked dirty to him.

  “Whatever you’re thinkin’ about,” she said, “why don’t you think about it later.”

  “Okay,” he said, turning to face her, “you got me convinced.”

  * * *

  “Where’s Hastings?” Kane asked.

  “He’s at the whorehouse.”

  “Why ain’t we at the whorehouse?” Kane asked.

  “Because we wanted whiskey first.”

  “What the hell is wrong with us?”

  “Damned if I know.”

  “How long we stayin’ here?” Kane asked.

  “Barry said overnight.”

  “Then we better go get fucked,” Kane said.

  “I agree.”

  They drained their glasses and slapped them down on the bar.

  * * *

  Sometimes, Tom Barry thought, things just work in your favor. As soon as Kane and O’Brien left the saloon, the fella at the poker table won a few hands.

  It was perfect.

  * * *

  Clint and Travis camped about thirty miles outside Waco.

  “If we rode all night, we could make it,” Travis said.

  “I want them bad,” Clint said, “but not bad enough to risk my neck, and my horse, at night. Why don’t you go ahead and I’ll meet you there.”

  “Because I’m here to cover your back,” Travis said. “I can’t do that if I ride ahead of you, can I?”

  “Then shut up and drink the coffee and eat the beans,” Clint said.

  “I’ll eat the beans,” Travis said, “but I’m not going to drink any more of your coffee. I think I’ll just drink water out of my canteen.”

  “Suit yourself,” Clint said, picking up the pot. “More for me.”

  “How the hell have your insides not just rotted away?” Travis asked.

  “They probably have,” Clint said. “They probably already have.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  The poker player took the break Barry was waiting for. As he got up from the table and walked to the bar, so did Tom Barry.

  As the man ordered a drink, Barry sidled up alongside him and said, “I’ll have one, too, on my friend h
ere.”

  The man looked at him and asked, “Why would I buy you a drink? I don’t know you.”

  “You’re gonna buy me a drink because I’ve got somethin’ to tell you. Somethin’ you’re gonna find real interestin’.”

  “Is that a fact?”

  “It is.”

  The man studied him for a moment, then looked at the bartender. “Steve, get the man a drink.”

  “My name’s Tom Barry,” Barry said.

  “Drew Stubbs,” the gambler said. “What’s on your mind?”

  Barry took the whiskey from the bartender.

  “Seems your luck has changed, all of a sudden.”

  “So?”

  “Ever wonder how that happens?”

  “No,” Stubbs said. “I play enough to know that it does, though.”

  “Well,” Barry said, “today I can tell you why.”

  “Is that a fact?”

  “It is.”

  “Okay, then . . . why?”

  Barry drained his glass and held it up.

  “Give him another, Steve,” Stubbs said. “This better be good.”

  “Oh,” Barry said, “it will be.”

  Stubbs listened to what Barry had to say, then looked at the bartender.

  “What about it, Steve?”

  “Well, he’s right about one thing,” the bartender said. “There was two fellas standing right here.”

  Stubbs turned and looked at the card table. He saw that someone could easily see his cards from here.

  “Did they signal anybody?” he asked.

  “I wouldn’t know,” the barman said, “but then if they was sendin’ signals, they wouldn’t do it so anybody could see, would they?”

  “No,” Stubbs said, “they wouldn’t.”

  Stubbs looked at Barry, but spoke to the bartender.

  “And did my luck change as soon as they left?”

  “Seemed to,” the bartender said.

  “Shit,” Stubbs said.