Further Adventures of James Butler Hickok (9781101601853) by J. R. Roberts Page A

daughter?”
    â€œI don’t want to talk about your daughter,” he growled. He flipped her onto her back and buried his face in her bush. God, she even smelled and tasted like her daughter.
    This was the first time Clint had been with a mother and a daughter, and he found it exciting. Especially since Kathy could have shown up at any moment and knocked on the door. He wondered what Katherine would do if that happened. Hide under the bed? Go out the window? What if her husband—Kathy’s father—had been in the hall, knocking on the door? Then he’d have to go out the window.
    He worked her into a frenzy with his mouth, lips, and tongue, then mounted her. Mother and daughter had probably never discussed being with a man, but apparently they liked to do the same things.
    Clint liked them, too.
    * * * 
    Later they lay together on the bed, her head on his shoulder.
    â€œHave you been with many women older than you?” she asked.
    â€œSome.”
    â€œMany married women?”
    â€œNot many,” he said. “I try not to.”
    â€œProbably a good idea.”
    â€œWell,” he said, “what am I supposed to do now?”
    â€œAbout what?”
    â€œAbout Kathy.”
    â€œOh, you can go on seeing Kathy. I’m not looking to get between you two.”
    He looked down at her; she looked up at him.
    â€œThen what was this about?”
    â€œI told you,” she said, “a woman needs to be told sometimes that she’s still beautiful, and still desirable.”
    â€œYour husband doesn’t tell you that?”
    â€œOh no,” she said. “He doesn’t tell me, and he doesn’t touch me.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œHe’s not interested.”
    â€œThen he’s a fool.”
    He kissed her then, tenderly.
    â€œWell,” she said, patting his stomach, “I better get going.”
    â€œSo soon?”
    â€œI forgot how soon a young man revives,” she said.
    â€œI don’t think you’d have any trouble keeping up with me.”
    â€œWell,” she said, “my husband may not want to make love to me, or tell me I’m beautiful, but he will wonder where I am.”
    â€œAnd where does he think you are?”
    â€œDress shopping.”
    She stood up and he watched as she got dressed. It was something he would enjoy for years to come, watching women get dressed. After . . .
    She walked to the bed fully dressed, leaned over, and kissed him.
    â€œKeep treating my Kathy well,” she said. “There’s no reason she needs to know about this.”
    â€œI agree.”
    â€œGood-bye, Clint.”
    He watched her walk out the door, wondered when he’d get the chance to do something like that again.
    * * * 
    Hickok was sitting at a table in the Old Southern, drinking and stewing about Dave Tutt, and his watch.
    â€œBill?” somebody asked. “You wanna play some poker?”
    Hickok looked up, then over at the table that was being set up for a game. He looked at the players, knew they’d be no competition for him.
    â€œNot interested.”
    â€œNot interested . . . in poker?” the man asked.
    â€œYou heard what I said, didn’t you?”
    â€œSure, Bill, sure,” the man said. “Sorry to bother you.”
    The man walked back to the table, shaking his head and telling the men what Hickok had said. They were all aghast. When had Wild Bill Hickok ever turned down a game of poker?
    Something must have really been bothering him.
    Hickok was thinking about the watch, but then he started thinking about Susannah Moore.
    â€œWalt,” he yelled, “another beer.”
    â€œComin’ up . . . Mr. Hickok,” the bartender said.

TWENTY
    Clint considered finding Hickok and thanking him, but then recalled the way the man had treated him when he’d simply tried to introduce himself.
    On the other hand, how many