Ticket to Yuma by J. R. Roberts

case.”
    â€œWhat about you?”
    â€œI leave happy every time.”
    She stared at him, a new look in her eyes. She was appraising him, measuring him.
    â€œYou know,” she said, rubbing her palms along her hips, “I work very hard.”
    â€œI’m sure you do.”
    â€œI have a lot of stress.”
    â€œYou’re running a business,” he said. “Comes with the territory.”
    â€œI don’t get very many opportunities to . . . relax.”
    â€œDoes Ben live with you?”
    â€œHe does, and it’s a small house.”
    â€œWhat about here?”
    â€œHe’s usually here all the time,” she said, “but tonight he’s not.”
    She reached behind her to untie the apron and let it fall to the ground. The dress she wore beneath it was cheap, the material thin, and it clung to her, showing off her hips and breasts. She wasn’t making any secret what she had on her mind.
    â€œWhat do you say, Mr. Adams?” she asked. “Want to help me relax? No obligations afterward?”
    â€œI think we better lock the door.”
    â€œI think so, too.”
    She walked to the door, closed it, locked it, and pulled the shade. Then she pulled the shades down over the other windows. She turned to face him and shrugged off her dress. He stood up, staring at her. Her breasts were pendulous, with large brown nipples and aureoles. Her hips were wide, thighs almost chunky. She was not built to be a saloon girl in a gown, but her body was perfect to be naked in a man’s bed.

EIGHTEEN
    He approached her as she stood, almost shyly, with her hands behind her. He touched her, immediately raising gooseflesh on her.
    â€œThis is bold of me,” she said. “Don’t think badly of me.”
    â€œI won’t,” he said. “I promise. But what if Ben comes back?”
    â€œThe door’s locked, and he doesn’t have his key,” she said. “He’ll go home.”
    â€œWell, then . . .” he said.
    He pulled her to him and kissed her. Her body was hot; the smell of her was a heady combination of sweat, food, and her own natural scent. She opened her mouth to him and they kissed avidly. He slid his hands down her bare back to her buttocks, then gripped her tightly and pulled her to him even more. She moaned into his mouth and her hands grabbed for his belt.
    â€œWait,” he said. “Here?”
    â€œRight here,” she gasped. “I can’t wait.”
    He removed his gun belt, set it down nearby, where he could get to it. He let her undo the belt of his trousers, then the buttons, and yank them down to his ankles. He lifted his feet so she could pull off his boots, and then remove his pants and underwear completely.
    His hard cock stood up and poked at her. Her eyes widened as she took it in her hands and stroked it lovingly.
    â€œOh, my,” she said.
    â€œOh, yes,” he said. He pushed her back until her butt struck a table, which she then sat on. He spread her legs, stood between them, and kissed her mouth, her neck, her shoulders, and her breasts. When he took a nipple into his mouth and sucked it, she gasped and grabbed his head, holding him there.
    He switched to the other breast, sucked it hungrily. Her breasts were solid, the skin smooth. And her nipples were a delightful mouthful.
    He continued to kiss her, down over her abdomen and her belly, until he had his nose and mouth buried in her pubic hair.
    â€œMy God,” she said, “what—” She stopped short when his tongue darted out and touched her. “Oh!”
    He began to lick her avidly, and she grew wetter and wetter, both from him and from her own emissions. She groaned and began to rock as he sucked and licked her. The table jumped noisily, and threatened to break beneath her weight.
    â€œOh, God,” she gasped, “don’t stop . . .”
    * * *
    Ben entered the Hotel