Annabelle Weston (6 page)

She gulped. Again he was right. Damn the man! She wanted him, wanted him to make her come. As if begging her to accept his challenge, her pussy muscles clenched and a spark of delicious pleasure twanged through her pearl.

Why were her cheeks flaming and why was she huffing and puffing—because of the way he was talking to her? That was
her
job. She was Carly—owner of the Lonesome. A dolly, a woman trained in the arts of pleasuring a man.

She circled the desk. He unbuckled his gun belt and let it fall to the floor. He seemed to know what she was going to do, which worked against her. She was in charge of this seduction. She bent down, giving him a good view of her breasts, which she was pleased to see he hungrily followed. She pressed her palms to his thighs, and his warm muscles tensed beneath her fingertips. Her gaze met his and a bolt of lightning passed between them. As she moved, she kept her eyes on his, daring him to look away. She spread his thighs and stepped between them then lifted the right side of her skirt.

She placed her knee on his thigh, letting the skirt fall open to reveal bare flesh and her lacy black garter. “This will cost you one silver dollar.”

He swallowed. His lips thinned. She was gratified by the shallow, even breaths as his chest rose and fell. His gaze roved over her thighs, her breasts then locked on her eyes. He kept his hands behind his head, a slow grin spreading over his fine lips.

“
Whatever you want, Carly.” His voice was husky.

She wanted him to be desperate.

She stroked his muscled arms, from his elbows to his shoulders, back and forth, teasing him. He remained perfectly still but her pulse was racing. Why did touching him having such an effect on her? She had to concentrate on what she was doing. She had to pleasure him, satisfy his need. Most of all she had to think of him as a customer.

With one knee on his thigh and her other leg between his, she undulated her body, rocking so her leg rubbed enticingly on his crotch, and with each sway, her gown opened at the slits to reveal the naked curls of her sex.

The men in the cell whooped and hollered for a peek.

“
Maybe I’ll do you next,” she said with a wink in their direction.

Jed grabbed her by the chin and turned her to him. “Forget about them. Prisoners don’t get no privileges.”

That seemed to settle the men down. Carly would pretend they weren’t even there. She pulled off his grasp and rubbed over his chest. His muscles bunched beneath her touch. His lids drooped with heady need. The muscle in his jaw clenched and unclenched with each of her movements. She smiled wickedly, knowing she’d only just begun her dance.

She lifted her skirts a little higher so they draped over his lap and gave her more room to maneuver. Placing both hands on his shoulders, she spread her legs so that her shins rested on his thighs. She heaved against him again, this time in such a way that her thighs spread wide. Her cunny, wet with desire, was exposed to Jed’s vision with each sway of her hips. The next move would be to press against his raging cock. And glory be, she did want his cock in her.

She arched her back then pushed herself forward, her breasts in his face, rocking some more.

His breath was ragged and she knew he was ready for her. She wasn’t done.

With her breasts crushed to his chest she gyrating back and forth, and she pressed her lips to his neck, breathing hotly on his flesh. He groaned as she expected he would. She trailed her tongue up to his ear, nipping at the lobe.

“
You’re so…strong…” she murmured, stroking down his muscled belly. She cupped his cock. “So…hard.” She licked at his ear then nipped him again.

Men were pushovers for this kind of palaver.

She swung her legs around his waist to straddle him. She moaned into his ear when his hard cock—shame it was imprisoned in denim—pressed against her wet cunny.

Jed’s breaths came fast and when her cunny moved against his cock, he panted. She took his hands from behind his head and pulled them to her ass, planting each of his palms on a naked cheek beneath her skirts. His fingers were warm, calloused. She moaned as he massaged her. Then she rolled against his cock, capturing the solid length of him between her thighs. Something flickered within her, startling her. She wanted him. She wanted to fuck him, sure, but she also wanted to come. Wouldn’t her finding release defeat her purpose? And yet she couldn’t deny she was being moved just as much as he was. He pumped upward, meeting the roll of her hips. He massaged her ass, and then somehow, his thumb brushed her cunny and she jumped.

“
Oh…Carly,” he murmured against her breasts as he pressed his open mouth to her flesh. He licked at her nipple through her corset—sending sparks of unexpected pleasure ricocheting through her body. “I want you…”

As soon as he said the words, she froze. What was she thinking? She couldn’t do this just for fun. She hopped off his lap. “What do you reckon, Sheriff? Are my services worth a dollar?”

The men in the cell jeered.

“
Come on, Sheriff Poole. You have to admit I’m good.”

Jed scowled and his eyes flashed a warning.

Carly gave those boys a good view of her ass before she smoothed her skirts, whirled around and swept out of his office. They’d have a miserable night, dreaming about her ass. Served them all right.

* * * * *

Several minutes passed before Jed could close his mouth. Had that really just happened? He looked down at his crotch. Yup. His raging hard-on showed no inclination to go away. He couldn’t remember a time he’d wanted to fuck a lady so bad. Damn if that woman didn’t know just how to get him riled up.

He’d been dead serious about wanting her.

She knew how to pleasure a man. He wanted her so bad he would pay her whatever she asked. He’d pay his life savings if she would just toss up her skirts again and let him sink inside her.

Except he didn’t want to be another customer to her. She couldn’t convince him he was. It was obvious from her look of desire that she’d liked the idea of him saying he’d make her come. She’d shivered in his arms as she’d moved so seductively on his lap. She’d reacted when his thumb brushed over her wet clitoris. She’d moaned when he’d sucked her nipple into his mouth. Hell, she’d been moaning while she twisted and turned her pretty little self on top of him.

And damn did he like everything about her. The cut of the dress was outstanding. Red had always been his favorite color. Every time she’d swayed, he’d gotten a view of her rosy sex, glistening with need. He liked that the best.

He licked his lips. This wasn’t over. She’d enticed him to the edge. He wasn’t going to let her walk away next time.

He stood, adjusted his extremely tight britches and then headed for the door. He hit the handle just as shouts and the blast of gunfire rang out from the street. He yanked his six-shooter from his holster and ripped open the door. A gang of horseman ran wild through the streets, shooting into the air.

He glanced wildly up and down the boardwalk for Carly. She’d only just left and couldn’t have gotten far. Was she all right?

A flash of red, huddled behind a watering trough about a hundred feet away, caught his attention. His relief was immediate. Carly was safe.

“
Keep your head down,” he yelled.

She ducked as the shooters turned their mounts and came back down the street, firing at the storefronts. A shower of glass crashed on the boardwalk. They stopped. Dust swirled around their mounts’ feet. There were four in all, rough and dirty, their lips curled in violent grins.

“
Compliments of Vernon Crosby,” they shouted before riding on past him.

Jed ran out into the middle of the street and fired at the men. From the shouts of pain, it was obvious he hit at least one of them, but that didn’t slow the gang down; they kept on riding.

Movement to his left caught his attention. Carly emerged from her hiding place and ran toward the Lonesome. He was glad to see she didn’t appear hurt. Every window on the main street was broken and glass littered the boardwalk. No doubt the other residents had been awakened by the disturbance but were too scared to venture outside. It galled Jed that a man and his family had to cower in fear of their lives because of a bunch of no-accounts.

He sucked in his breath. It’d been a long night but daylight was still hours away. He returned to the jailhouse and took down a rifle.

“
Who was it?” one of his prisoners asked.

“
What can you tell me about Vernon Crosby?”

“
He’s one ornery son of a bitch.”

“
He seems to think he can scare the law.”

“
That’d be his mistake.”

Jed scowled. “You got that right.”

“
Although he ain’t been caught yet, now has he?” The man spoke with pride.

“
Caught your sorry ass, didn’t I? Reckon your boss is next on the list.”

“
Yeah, true enough, but the reason he ain’t caught yet is the same reason he’s the boss. Man is crazy and smart to boot.”

“
We’ll see about that,” Jed answered before stalking outside.

He settled in his chair, the Winchester across his lap, and spent the rest of the night listening to the righteous snores of the men in the cell and keeping an eye on his town.

When Carly arrived at the Lonesome, out of breath and panting, she saw her saloon hadn’t been spared the wrath of the Crosby gang. Her beautiful plate-glass window had been reduced to a thousand pieces. She’d spent a pretty penny on it—it’d come all the way from San Francisco.

She pushed through the swinging doors. Gladys and Blanche looked up. They were picking up shards of glass and putting them in a bucket.

“
Is everybody all right?” Carly asked.

Judith stepped forward. “We’ve been better.”

“
They usually leave us be.” Alvin shook his head. Carly was relieved the mirror hanging behind the bar, which he prized, was still intact.

“
I don’t know why they decided to shoot up the town,” Carly said.

“
I know why.” Judith planted her hands on ample hips. “It’s that new sheriff.”

“
Maybe you shouldn’t be so friendly to him,” Blanche said.

Carly wondered. “I don’t think he’s the cause. He’s been in town less than twenty-four hours.”

“
He’s got some of Vernon’s boys locked up.” Judith glanced at the others. “They’ll be back to free them.”

Carly bit her lip. Jed would have his hands full if they did.

“
Where’s Ester?”

Judith nodded at the staircase. “She never came down.”

Carly mounted the stairs. Judith was probably right. Jed had stirred up a heap of trouble. Tonight was just a taste of what they all could expect.

She found Ester in her room huddled in the corner, clinging to her doll.

Carly knelt beside her. “Hey, sweetie, those men are gone.”

“
Why did they shoot at us?” Ester trembled as she spoke.

“
They’re mean, I guess.”

“
Will they come back?”

Carly slumped down beside her. “If they do, Sheriff Poole will arrest them.”

“
I like Sheriff Poole.”

With a sigh of resignation, Carly realized she did too.

* * * * *

Dawn spread, golden and dusty pink across the Eastern sky and the sleepy town began to come alive. The gang hadn’t returned, much to Jed’s relief.

He stood and stretched cramped muscles. His stomach grumbled. He’d plenty of time during the night to think about Carly’s visit. She’d been angry with him about the elixir but he sensed there was something else, something deeper that’d set her off.

He could never figure out women and so he’d keep a safe distance. She knew his weakness—his desire for her—and she’d be sure to use it against him when the notion struck her.

The owner of the mercantile, Mr. Finney, swept glass from the boardwalk, the clinking sound echoing down the walk as several others did the same thing. The livery man, Mr. Trumbull, hauled a handcart down the middle of the street. He saw Jed and nodded.

“
Quite a ruckus last night.” The geezer put down the cart and brushed off his hands. “Reckon it was Vernon Crosby’s boys.”

“
This happen often?”

“
More than we’d like.” Trumbull pulled on his beard. “Think they’ll be back, Sheriff?”

“
Can’t say.” It was false comfort. Jed was pretty sure they’d come for the prisoners. Next time more than a few windows might be shot up. Next time the citizens of Tucson could be caught in the crossfire.

Jed could think of only one way to keep the residents safe. They wouldn’t like him imposing a curfew but until the rest of the gang was behind bars, he’d no other choice.

Mr. Finney leaned on his broom. “Probably came to bust the rest of their gang out of jail.”

Jed nodded. “How many of those
hombres
are there?”

The mercantile owner shrugged. “Wouldn’t be surprised if there were a dozen more.”

“
You’ll need help catching the rest of the gang before they come back to town.” Mr. Travis sauntered over from where he’d been standing on the boardwalk, obviously listening to the conversation. “They’re as slippery as sidewinders.”

“
If you ask me, Crosby and his boys are too wily for one man,” Mr. Trumbull said.

Jed had thought about hiring a couple deputies. He couldn’t stand guard morning, noon and night.

“
I reckon I’d better hire a couple of good men to back me up.” He turned to Travis, who’d been eager to help capture the outlaws.

“
Not me.”

Mr. Finney interrupted. “My nephew’s new to town and is looking for steady work. He’ll need some teaching.”

“
Betty Short has a strong boy,” Mr. Trumbull added. “He’s dependable.”