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

said.
    â€œI know,” Johnny said, “I plan to kill Clint Adams.”
    â€œDidn’t you learn nothin’ from that beer mug?” his brother asked him.
    â€œOkay, okay,” Johnny said, “So what do you suggest?”
    â€œJust listen,” Joe said.

    It was fascinating to watch Amy/Delores ride him. Her big breasts bounced up and down, her nipples bobbing around in front of him. And the look on her face, her eyes wide open, biting her lip, tossing her head around. She was completely taken over by the moment. If two men burst into the room at that moment and started shooting, he doubted she’d even notice.
    Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
    He ignored it, still watching her, feeling his release building, like it was rushing up from his legs into his crotch . . .
    Â 
    â€œWhat if he don’t answer,” Johnny whispered.
    â€œWhat are you talkin’ about?” Joe asked. “Somebody knocks on your door, you answer it.”
    â€œHe’s got a whore in there.”
    â€œIt don’t matter,” Joe said. “Who don’t answer the door when somebody knocks?”
    He knocked again, harder.
    Â 
    The knocking came again, harder this time, and still she kept riding him. He thought about answering it, but suddenly he exploded inside her, his back arching, lifting them both off the bed. She began to spasm on top of him, and he could feel her insides gripping and releasing him, milking him . . .
    Â 
    â€œWhat the hell—” Johnny said when they heard the cries from inside.
    â€œAh, fuck it,” Johnny said. “Kick it in.”
    â€œNow?” his brother asked.
    â€œRight now!”

TWENTY-ONE
    As the door slammed open, Clint reacted instantly, and from reflex. He lifted the girl off him and dropped her on the other side of the bed, so she’d be protected. Then he grabbed his gun from the holster on the bedpost. By the time the two men burst into the room, he had his gun trained on the door.
    As Joe and Johnny Crespo rushed into the room, they saw that their idea had not been such a good one, after all. But they had their guns in their hands, and there was only one way to react. They pulled their triggers.
    The brothers’ shots, fired in haste, sprayed the room. Clint calmly fired back, striking each brother in the chest, precisely in the heart. They both fell to the floor, dead.
    The girl—Amy or Delores, whichever name she wanted to use—stuck her head up from behind the bed and said, “Is it over?”
    â€œLet’s just make sure,” Clint said.
    He rose from the bed and padded, naked, to the bodies. He kicked their guns away, then leaned over and checked the bodies.
    â€œThey’re dead.”
    She stood up and walked, also naked and unconcerned about it, to the bodies.
    â€œThe Crespo brothers,” she said.
    Clint recognized Johnny Crespo, the man who’d complained about being cheated at poker.
    â€œHe had a brother,” he said.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œNo one mentioned that.”
    She shrugged, making her breasts jiggle. “I guess nobody thought it would be important.”
    â€œIt would have been useful to know,” he said.
    He walked to the door and looked out. Some people had come out of their rooms and were milling about in the hall, wondering what happened. He tried to close the door but the lock was broken. It wouldn’t stay closed.
    He turned to the girl and said, “You better get dressed. We’re probably going to have company.”
    She grabbed her clothes and began putting them back on.
    â€œI hope we can get another room,” she said.
    He paused in pulling on his pants and looked at her.
    â€œWell,” she said, “I wasn’t finished, were you?”
    Â 
    As expected, Sheriff Garver appeared soon, making his way through the people in the hall.
    â€œBack to your rooms, please,” he called. “Go back to your rooms.”
    He