Longarm and the Banker's Daughter (9781101613375) by Tabor Evans

between her legs, enjoying her warm, soft lips and teasing tongue on his pecker. Now she was giving all that to Captain Shafter, and while Longarm felt no emotional pull toward the girl, he did feel an ache in his crotch, and that was enough to cause him to bite down hard on his back teeth and give a deep, ragged sigh as he tipped his hat down low over his eyes and beckoned sleep.
    The four gunmen must have been suffering a similar frustration. He could hear them about twenty feet beyond him, whispering and chuckling, expressing their own goatish desires. Longarm grinned at the next thought that entered his head.
    The captain better watch himself with that demonic little filly, he thought, or he’s liable to end up with a bullet in his head.
    *   *   *
    â€œSleep well, Longarm?” she asked the next day just after sunrise, when he and the four gunmen were rigging their horses.
    She strolled up to him wearing one of the captain’s spare shirts—a brown wool shirt trimmed with red piping that she’d left about half unbuttoned and knotted around her waist, leaving about two inches of her midriff bare. The shirt was pulled taught against the two round mounds of her jutting breasts.
    Her freshly brushed hair glistened like honey with buttery sunlight shining through it.
    Longarm ignored the twinge of desire in the head of his otherwise slack cock.
    â€œThere’s nothing like the cool night air for helping a man to a good night’s rest,” he said, puffing a three-for-a-nickel cheroot as he tied his bedroll behind his saddle.
    She stopped a few feet away from him, crossing her arms beneath her breasts and cocking one leg forward, glancing back to where the captain sat on a rock, enjoying a cup of coffee and one of his prissy cigarettes. “Dickie slept well, also. After he finally got to sleep, I mean. I don’t think the percentage gals down Texas way can satisfy him—not after enjoying the pleasure of
moi
in Jawbone. So we had a reunion of sorts. I hope I didn’t scream too loudly.”
    â€œOh, did you scream?”
    â€œFuck you,” she said softly through a crooked smile. “You know I did. But I was thinking about you, Longarm. And that plow handle you battered me with the night before.”
    Longarm didn’t look at her, hoping she’d go away, as he tied the second strap on his hot roll. The other men were several yards away, smoking and tending their own mounts, one cleaning out the frog of his skewbald paint’s left front hoof.
    She stepped up beside Longarm and whispered just off his left shoulder, “You could have me again, if you wanted me badly enough. Me . . . and so much more, Custis.” She pivoted coquettishly, giving him a saucy look as she swung her hair back, then started back toward Shafter, saying quietly over her shoulder to Longarm, “I reckon you’re just going to have to want it again badly enough, aren’t you?”
    Longarm almost choked on the raw knot in his throat as he pulled the strap taut on his bedroll. His knees felt like sponges, and a vein in his temple throbbed. He could hear her behind him, talking in sultry tones with Shafter, and he hated the way he hated it. Hated her and hated Shafter.
    The girl needed to be locked up, the key thrown in the ocean.
    He backed his grullo out away from the other horses and stepped into the saddle. He glanced down at where the captain sat on a rock near the fire they’d built up for breakfast and had Lacy on his knee. They both looked up at him.
    â€œI’m gonna ride back a few miles, make sure we haven’t been followed by Gunn and Cruz’s bunch.”
    â€œWell, I for one applaud your decision, Marshal!” said the fancy Dan, widening his eyes and puffing out his too-thin chest behind that silly elk-skin jacket that made him look like a younger, sillier version of Buffalo Bill Cody.
    Lacy wrapped her arms around his neck