Free Double Mountain Crossing by Chris Scott Wilson Page B

lying full length. He circled to the vacant side of the bed and slid the scattergun onto the floor, close at hand. If the sharp eyed gambler poked his head through the window when he found the door blocked, then he would get himself a load of buckshot in his weasly face.
    â€œHot damn, here I am,” he laughed, nudging the iron frame as though he had banged into it.
    â€œCome here, lover man,” she crooned softly.
    â€œJust get my pants off and I’ll be right with you.” The bed shook as he freed himself from his clinging clothes, then he stretched out full length beside her. She had probably not expected it to get this far, he reckoned, laying a hand on warm breast before he traced a line down the centre of her ribcage to the top of her bloomers. She still had them on, delaying tactics to the end. He sighed. Well, there’d be no cavalry tonight. Not unless the sharp eyed pistolero had the strength of a lumberjack and could break into the hotel room with his bare hands. He might shoot the lock out but there would still be the chair to contend with. Anyhow, blowing out the lock would wake up the whole hotel and that would be the last thing the gambler would want.
    The aroma of her raven hair sweet in his nostrils. He savoured the gentle scent of her, smiling to think she was merely a taster for all the good living yet to come.

    ***

    Anne Marie was listening to the night.
    Shuck should bust in any moment now. Then it would all be over. The prospector would be able to do nothing. She had seen his shotgun propped in the corner and there didn’t appear to be any other guns in the room. He would be easy meat for Shuck. One good swift blow would lay him out for a long while. They’d be able to go through his gear to find the money, then goodbye Redrock. Where the hell was he? Why hadn’t he come? the prospector was closing in, his need growing as he caressed her.
    She found it surprising his hands should be so gentle when they were so work worn and callused. The more she came to know of him, the less she seemed to know. He was not at all like the others. Even Shuck was hard and impatient when he was ready to take her, his grip sometimes so fierce she nearly cried out in pain, but she always held her silence. Afterwards, she worried because she had enjoyed it like that, with the pain, like animals, but this man, Morgan, he was so gentle, so patient…
    â€¦When it was over, she snuggled closer to Morgan as he slept, strength drained. Shuck hadn’t turned up. All that she’d heard, or thought she’d heard, was the door handle turning, but she wasn’t even sure of that, the amount of noise the bed had been making.
    But by then she hadn’t wanted Shuck to come in anyway. It had been a totally new experience for her. No man had ever made her feel like that, not even Shuck who she thought she loved. No, never like that. After the urgency of every man she had been with, Morgan had taken his time. She had fought it at first, but it had become so enveloping that she had allowed herself to give way and it had ruled her very being. The feeling had climbed and climbed as Morgan worked at her, coaxing it to expand until her world exploded, spasms wracking her body, jerking her like a puppet, back and forth over the thin threshold between agony and ecstasy. It was so great, so tumultuous that she could have sworn the earth moved. As she rode the crest of delight, Morgan had exploded too, moans escaping his lips as his body tensed, grinding hard against her.
    It had been exhausting, but she had not slept, watching the moonlight across Morgan’s form, still beside her. It was a good feeling, all warm inside.
    As she lay, the tempo of his breathing altered and he turned over on his back, moaning softly in his sleep. She could see his lips clearly in the moonlight, moving soundlessly. His eyelids fluttered and he found his voice. It split the night, loud and clear, making her jump