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

wasn’t long before she gasped and dug her nails into his shoulders and shuddered in ecstasy.
    Presently Aramone sagged against him, saying softly in his ear, “That was nice.”
    â€œWe’re not done yet,” Fargo said, and rammed into her anew.
    â€œOh God.”
    Fargo was in a mood to do it rough. He pinched her nipples until it had to hurt. He bit her neck. He squeezed her bottom so hard it would be a wonder if he didn’t leave bruises.
    Throwing back her head, Aramone closed her eyes and husked, “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”
    Fargo didn’t have a say in the matter. His body had taken over. Swept up in a rising tide of sensual pleasure, he let himself go. The explosion about curled his toes.
    When at last he stopped, he received a grateful wet kiss on his cheek.
    â€œThank you, handsome.”
    Fargo grunted.
    â€œI’d like to do that again real soon,” she said dreamily.
    â€œWe’ll see.” Fargo still didn’t completely trust her or her brother. Their denials that they hadn’t killed Humphries didn’t hold water, although he had to admit he couldn’t think of a reason why they would.
    Aramone was playing with his hair. “I love it,” she said. “I love it more than anything. My brother says it’s not proper, that a true lady would never admit such a thing. But what am I to do? Lie?”
    Fargo would be the first to admit that it was harder for a woman to admit to liking carnal relations, as they were called, than it was for a man. Women who did were usually branded whores.
    â€œHe says I’ll never find a husband if I give it away for free,” Aramone had gone on and lightly laughed. “He doesn’t realize I like giving it away.”
    â€œPut yourself together,” Fargo said. He did the same, glad to have the Colt around his waist again. He loosened it in his holster as he followed her back.
    Glyn Richmond was still on his side, breathing evenly in the rhythm of deep sleep.
    Aramone grinned as she sank down. Pulling her blanket to her neck, she blew him a kiss. “’Night,” she whispered.
    Fargo figured sleep would come quickly but he lay there a good half an hour before his eyelids grew leaden.
    He slept uneasily. Twice he awakened. Once when a wolf howled and one of their horses nervously whinnied. The second time, he heard the Richmonds whispering to each other. He couldn’t catch the words but they appeared to be having an argument. He made the mistake of rolling toward them to hear better, and they immediately stopped.
    Daybreak broke crisp and cool. Fargo was up first and rekindled the fire. He put coffee on and the aroma brought Aramone up onto her elbows.
    â€œMorning,” she said with another of her inviting smiles. “I slept like a baby last night. How about you?”
    â€œNot so much,” Fargo said.
    She gazed at the spreading rosy glow to the east. “It promises to be a gorgeous day.”
    At that moment, from off up the mountain, came the crack of a shot.

20
    Glyn Richmond sat up. He was fully awake and must have been for some time. Cocking his head, he said, “That wasn’t more than half a mile off.”
    Fargo was impressed. It took a good ear to tell that.
    â€œCould be someone shooting game for breakfast,” Aramone speculated.
    â€œA dumb thing to do with the Blackfeet in the area,” Glyn said.
    Fargo thought that a dumb thing to say, given that Richmond had shot a rabbit the day before.
    â€œIf the Blackfeet go after them and not us, I say let them be as careless as they want to be,” Aramone said and laughed.
    None of the bull hunters meant anything to Fargo, except for Crown and Peters. They’d sided with him against the Hollisters in the saloon, and he reckoned he owed them for that.
    â€œLet’s eat and get cracking,” Glyn said. “We have a lot of riding to do.”
    â€œIt will be wonderful