Gunsmith #361 : The Letter of the Law (9781101553657) by J. R. Roberts

sure not your reputation.”
    â€œI can’t help that,” Clint said. “Whatever my reputation is, I don’t try to live up to it. So you’ve got no reason to run me out of town.”
    â€œI’m not runnin’ you out,” Garver said. “I’m just sayin’ . . . I’ll be watchin’.”
    â€œIf somebody does get killed,” Clint said, “it’s not going to be my fault. You can count on that.”
    â€œI’ll hold you to that,” the lawman said. “What are your plans for the rest of the evening?”
    â€œAnother beer, and then a good book,” Clint said.
    â€œI hope that’s true.”
    Garver turned and left the saloon.
    â€œBartender,” Clint said, “another beer.”
    â€œComin’ up.”
    As the bartender set the fresh beer in front of him, the cushy little brunette sidled up to him.
    â€œAre you really gonna go to your room and cuddle up with a book?” she asked, pressing her warm hip up against his.
    â€œThat’s what I was thinking,” he said, looking down at her. “Why, do you have a better idea?”
    â€œI might,” she said, wiggling her shoulders saucily, also making her breasts jiggle.
    â€œWhat time do you finish here?” he asked.
    â€œLate.”
    â€œWell,” he said, “I’ll be awake, reading, if you want to come over.” He told her what room he was in.
    â€œYou’re pretty sure of yourself,” she said.
    â€œThat is your hip pressing against mine, right?” he asked.
    She bumped him and said, “What do you think?”
    â€œThen I’ll see you later.”

NINETEEN
    Clint was lying on his bed, still dressed but minus his boots, reading when the knock came at the door. It was a little after 2 a.m. He set the book down, slid his gun from his holster, and walked to the door. He cracked the door enough for him to see the girl in the lobby, then opened it—still with caution.
    â€œHello,” she said.
    â€œHi.” He stuck his head out to look both ways.
    â€œDid you think I was going to bring company?” she asked. “Another girl maybe?”
    â€œI think you’ll be girl enough for me,” he said, backing away.
    â€œYou can bet on that,” she said, entering the room.
    Her perfume was heady, smelled as if it had been freshly applied. He closed the door, then walked to the bedpost and replaced his gun in its holster.
    â€œGuess a man like you has to be careful, right?” she asked.
    â€œDefinitely,” he said. “It’s how I stay alive.”
    She approached him, put her hand against his crotch, and said, “Mmm, I think I’m going to be glad you stayed alive.”
    He looked down at her bulging cleavage while she undid his belt. She reached into his pants and wrapped her warm hand around his hard penis.
    â€œMmm,” she said again. She fell to her knees and tugged his pants down around his ankles. His penis popped free and her eyes widened. She took it in both hands, inhaled a deep breath, and then wrapped her lips around it.
    Clint closed his eyes as she slid him into her hot mouth. She reached around and grabbed his buttocks with both hands, kneaded them while she suckled him. She then moved one hand down to fondle his testicles.
    â€œOkay,” he said, reaching down for her. “Come up here.”
    He pulled her up to him and kissed her soundly, then spun her around and pushed her down on the bed.
    â€œHey!”
    He kicked his pants and underwear away, then quickly removed his shirt and joined her, naked, on the bed.
    He raised the hem of her dress above her waist, tugged off her undergarment, and buried his face in her hot crotch.
    â€œOmigod!” she gasped as his tongue lapped at her.
    She struggled to get out of her dress, lifting it over her head and discarding it, then reached down and held his head in place.
    â€œOooh, yeah,” she said,