Read Online Thunderhead Trail by Jon Sharpe - Free Book Online Page A

“Is this all it does, is hang there?”
    Fargo woke up, right quick. The feel of her fingers caused him to swell and harden and a constriction to form in his throat. “You’re asking for it.”
    â€œI wish to tell you I am.” Aramone grinned and molded her mouth to his.
    Fargo had been kissed by a lot of women in his time. Few were as talented. Aramone had a way of moving her lips and entwining her tongue that made it seem as if she were eating him alive. Their first kiss lasted a long while. When they finally parted, she was breathing heavily and her eyelids were hooded.
    â€œNice,” she said.
    Fargo cupped a breast and she cupped him again, down low.
    â€œOh my. How peculiar.”
    â€œWhat is?”
    â€œYou ride a stallion and you carry one around in your pants, too.”
    Chuckling, Fargo squeezed her tit, eliciting a moan and a flutter of her eyes.
    â€œYou sure know how to stoke a gal’s fire.”
    â€œDo you know how to shut the hell up?” Fargo made sure she did by kissing her and digging his fingers into her bottom. She cooed and wriggled enticingly.
    Prying at the cotton belt, Fargo parted her robe. Her nightgown was so sheer that her nipples jutted like twin tacks. He pinched one and then the other and she bit his shoulder and nipped his earlobe.
    Fargo figured to ease her to the ground, but when he tried, she resisted and stood firm. He found out why when she undid his gun belt and his pants and delved a hand down in. At the contact, he involuntarily gasped.
    â€œLike this, do you?”
    Fargo liked it a lot. She commenced pushing his pants, and he helped. When they were down around his knees, she hiked at her nightgown and got it up around her waist.
    â€œGuess what happens next.”
    â€œI gag you,” Fargo said.
    Aramone giggled, then placed her hands on his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist.
    Fargo didn’t know how she did it so quickly, but suddenly he was in her wet sheath. She arched her back and those luscious lips of her parted, and she slid down on him until he was all the way in.
    â€œGod, you feel good,” she breathed.
    Fargo couldn’t speak for the constriction in his throat.
    â€œYou fill me like no man ever has,” Aramone whispered.
    Gripping her hips, Fargo began to slowly pump his legs.
    â€œYes,” Aramone said. “Oh, yes.”
    They were both so enrapt in their pleasure that Fargo was slow to become aware of the stealthy crackle of the nearby undergrowth.
    Something, or someone, was coming toward them.

19
    Aramone heard it, too, and froze. “Do you hear that?” she whispered.
    â€œStay still,” Fargo said. He glanced at the ground, and his gun belt. If he pulled out of her, he could drop to his knees and grab it.
    â€œDo you think it’s the Blackfeet?”
    No, Fargo didn’t. Most warriors had more sense than to go wandering around the mountains at night. Unless the war party had spotted the fire. He’d kept it small to prevent that, but you never knew.
    â€œMaybe it’s a bear.”
    Fargo doubted that, too. Normally, bears blundered about making more noise than the thing in the undergrowth. When stalking prey, though, they could be as silent as a cougar.
    â€œSay something.”
    Fargo was about to slide out when the thing became visible. Only an inky outline but the shape was unmistakable.
    â€œWhy, it’s just a doe,” Aramone said. “Shoo!” she said, and waved a hand. “Leave us be!”
    Spooked, the doe wheeled and bolted. The noise of her passage quickly faded and the woods were quiet again.
    â€œNow where were we?” Aramone asked, her teeth a slash of white in the darkness.
    Fargo was still rock hard. He resumed pumping with increased vigor until he was ramming up into her fit to cleave her in half.
    â€œYesssss,” Aramone moaned. “Oh, yesssssss.”
    Fargo kissed and licked and caressed, and it