Read Online Longarm on the Santee Killing Grounds by Tabor Evans - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Tabor Evans
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show you. But no offense, Miss Annie, you wasn't exactly what I was expecting to investigate in Durango."
She allowed no offense was taken as he rolled her on her back to treat her right in a softer, more romantic way. They took turns puffing on the cheroot with half his weight on one elbow. He was pleased to learn she knew how nice it could be that way too, despite all her virginity bullshit. For once a man and woman got past the mad dash for eternal orgasm, it could be mighty nice to just drift together down the currents of togetherness with calmer but lingering pleasures.
She followed his drift, dilating and tightening her innards in time with his languid thrusts as they shared a smoke and conversed like pals over coffee and dessert. He told her more about his own reasons for being in Durango, and added, "Seeing a lady dealing blackjack sees more of life than, say, a schoolmarm, I don't suppose you'd have noticed if anyone had been flashing hundred-dollar treasury notes where the lights are brighter late at night?"
She shook her head, putting the cheroot back between his lips as she replied, "Betting a twenty in paper raises an eyebrow and calls for the floor manager, Custis. Most of the miners and railroad men out our way are paid in silver cartwheels. A top hardrock man draws a double eagle in gold. The boys don't cotton much to paper, and the house likes it even less."
She thrust her hips for a better grip on him as she calmly went on. "Trying to cash a hundred dollars in paper would cause way more excitement in Durango than a Chinaman trying to marry that schoolmarm you just mentioned. What made you ask such a question to begin with?"
He got rid of the cheroot so he could roll her higher atop that pillow under her bare behind, and got deeper in the saddle with her soft thighs hugging his hips while he nuzzled her naked collarbone and explained, "Like I told you, that gang led by a cuss who seems to keep dying in one rooming house fire after another grabbed a heap of hundred-dollar treasury notes up Fort Collins way."
She seemed to be paying less attention as he continued. "Cashing hundred-dollar treasury notes attracts raised eyebrows no matter who tries to cash one, anywhere outside a bank, and you'd play the fool trying to cash a stolen hundred-dollar note in any bank worth its charter."
She murmured, "If you say so, darling. Could you move in in me a little faster?"
He could, and did, but whether she really cared or not he said, or panted, "I asked about somebody trying to cash such paper in a gambling house because I was on another case a spell back, on this same side of the Divide, where outlaws were trying to account for their ill-gotten gains by passing it off as gaming house winnings. But riding off to a remote mining town with the proceeds of that payroll robbery sounds even dumber when nobody seems to have cashed any of the proceeds and... Never mind, spread them sweet legs and come with Pappa!"
She did. It felt so good it almost hurt him, and seemed to cause her considerable agony, judging by the way she was moaning and groaning and carrying on till they somehow wound up with him pounding her even harder dog-style. She called him a brute for abusing her in such a beastly way and threatened to strangle him with her bare hands if he dared to take it out with her right on the razor's edge of infinite pleasure that would last for all eternity.
Then she came and said, "Shit. I was trying to make it last too. What was that about dying in one rooming house fire after another? I've heard of going back for second helpings of this hot stuff, Custis, but wouldn't one rooming house fire be enough for anybody?"
He planted his bare feet wider on the rug, and got a friendly grip on either of her hipbones so he could keep it in half soft as he explained. "I don't buy the same Calvert Tyger burning to death more than once, if he ever burned to death at all. We know for a fact who one of the victims was. I ain't
She allowed no offense was taken as he rolled her on her back to treat her right in a softer, more romantic way. They took turns puffing on the cheroot with half his weight on one elbow. He was pleased to learn she knew how nice it could be that way too, despite all her virginity bullshit. For once a man and woman got past the mad dash for eternal orgasm, it could be mighty nice to just drift together down the currents of togetherness with calmer but lingering pleasures.
She followed his drift, dilating and tightening her innards in time with his languid thrusts as they shared a smoke and conversed like pals over coffee and dessert. He told her more about his own reasons for being in Durango, and added, "Seeing a lady dealing blackjack sees more of life than, say, a schoolmarm, I don't suppose you'd have noticed if anyone had been flashing hundred-dollar treasury notes where the lights are brighter late at night?"
She shook her head, putting the cheroot back between his lips as she replied, "Betting a twenty in paper raises an eyebrow and calls for the floor manager, Custis. Most of the miners and railroad men out our way are paid in silver cartwheels. A top hardrock man draws a double eagle in gold. The boys don't cotton much to paper, and the house likes it even less."
She thrust her hips for a better grip on him as she calmly went on. "Trying to cash a hundred dollars in paper would cause way more excitement in Durango than a Chinaman trying to marry that schoolmarm you just mentioned. What made you ask such a question to begin with?"
He got rid of the cheroot so he could roll her higher atop that pillow under her bare behind, and got deeper in the saddle with her soft thighs hugging his hips while he nuzzled her naked collarbone and explained, "Like I told you, that gang led by a cuss who seems to keep dying in one rooming house fire after another grabbed a heap of hundred-dollar treasury notes up Fort Collins way."
She seemed to be paying less attention as he continued. "Cashing hundred-dollar treasury notes attracts raised eyebrows no matter who tries to cash one, anywhere outside a bank, and you'd play the fool trying to cash a stolen hundred-dollar note in any bank worth its charter."
She murmured, "If you say so, darling. Could you move in in me a little faster?"
He could, and did, but whether she really cared or not he said, or panted, "I asked about somebody trying to cash such paper in a gambling house because I was on another case a spell back, on this same side of the Divide, where outlaws were trying to account for their ill-gotten gains by passing it off as gaming house winnings. But riding off to a remote mining town with the proceeds of that payroll robbery sounds even dumber when nobody seems to have cashed any of the proceeds and... Never mind, spread them sweet legs and come with Pappa!"
She did. It felt so good it almost hurt him, and seemed to cause her considerable agony, judging by the way she was moaning and groaning and carrying on till they somehow wound up with him pounding her even harder dog-style. She called him a brute for abusing her in such a beastly way and threatened to strangle him with her bare hands if he dared to take it out with her right on the razor's edge of infinite pleasure that would last for all eternity.
Then she came and said, "Shit. I was trying to make it last too. What was that about dying in one rooming house fire after another? I've heard of going back for second helpings of this hot stuff, Custis, but wouldn't one rooming house fire be enough for anybody?"
He planted his bare feet wider on the rug, and got a friendly grip on either of her hipbones so he could keep it in half soft as he explained. "I don't buy the same Calvert Tyger burning to death more than once, if he ever burned to death at all. We know for a fact who one of the victims was. I ain't
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