Ticket to Yuma by J. R. Roberts Page B

of their combined perspiration, and the sound of their flesh slapping together . . .
    * * *
    Ben went to Clint’s hotel, asked the desk clerk if he was there.
    â€œI seen him go out, Ben,” the man said. “Ain’t seen him come back.”
    â€œDid he ask you about a man named Harlan Banks?”
    â€œHe did,” the man said. “I don’t know nothin’ about that.”
    â€œOkay,” Ben said. “When he comes back, tell him I’m lookin’ for him. You know where I live?”
    â€œI do.”
    â€œThen you tell ’im.”
    â€œI will.”
    Ben nodded, turned, and headed for the café.
    * * *
    Clint slid his hands beneath Hannah’s butt, got both his hands full, and pulled her to him. She grunted every time they came together, their breathing coming in hard raps . . . and then there was a banging on the door.
    They stopped.
    * * *
    Ben got to the café and tried the front door. It was locked, the shades were drawn, but the lights were still on. He figured his mother was inside, cleaning up. He put his hand in his pocket, but realized he didn’t have his key.
    He started pounding on the door.
    * * *
    â€œIt’s Ben,” Clint said.
    â€œOh, God,” Hannah said, clinging to him.
    They remained that way for a moment, and then the banging started again,
    And then they were laughing, trying not to laugh out loud.
    â€œShh, shh,” she said, “we can’t let him hear us.”
    â€œWhat if he keeps knocking?”
    â€œHe’ll stop,” she whispered. “He’ll figure I left the lights on and he’ll go home.”
    They stayed pressed together until the knocking stopped. They listened intently, hoping to hear footsteps walking away.
    â€œHe’s leavin’,” she said.
    â€œYeah.”
    She wiggled her hips.
    â€œYou’re still hard inside me.”
    â€œAnd you’re still gorgeous.”
    He kissed her, tentatively at first—in case the knocking started again—but then more avidly, and in no time, they were lunging at each other again . . .
    * * *
    Ben stopped knocking, tried to look underneath the drawn shades, but in the end he decided his mother must have forgotten to douse the lights. He’d have to go home, get his key, come back, and put them out.
    He backed away, wondering where Clint might be. Maybe on the way home he’d stop in a few of the saloons and see if he was there. He was still hoping to get Clint together with Larry that night.
    Ben finally walked away from the café, turning once to look over his shoulder. His mother hadn’t left the lights on in a long time. He wondered what she had on her mind that made her do it this time.

TWENTY
    Hannah pushed Clint away and got herself down off the table. Then she turned him around so she could get on her knees in front of him. He leaned back against the table as she took his hard cock in her hands, stroked it, cupped his balls, licked the shaft, and then took him into her mouth.
    Clint groaned as she began to suck him, her lips sliding up and down him wetly.
    â€œMmm,” she moaned as she sucked him. She ran her hands over his thighs, up over his belly and chest, and then around behind him to grab his ass and squeeze it.
    â€œJesus, Hannah,” Clint said, putting his hands on her shoulders, then on her head as she bobbed up and down on him.
    She started to make slurping noises, and he felt that if he didn’t stop her now, it was going to be over before he was ready.
    He reached down, slid his hands beneath her arms, and lifted her forcefully off his cock with an audible
pop
. He turned her, bent her over the table, spread her buttocks, and entered her from behind.
    Hannah almost screamed, bent over so that she was lying flat on the table, her breasts flattened beneath her, as he drove in and out of her. She gasped and cried out with each thrust,