Free Way with a Gun by J. R. Roberts

bartender said.
    â€œCome, Señor Clint,” she said. “You are the victor, and I am the prize.”
    Clint and Rio stepped over the prone form of Winston on their way out.

TWENTY-THREE
    When Sheriff Andy Taylor entered the saloon, the prone figure of Winston was still on the floor in front of the bar. Men were walking around him, drinking and ignoring him.
    â€œWhat went on here?” Taylor asked Bruno.
    â€œStranger wanted to leave here with Rio,” the bartender said. “Winston objected.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œThe stranger left with Rio.”
    â€œAfter doing this?”
    â€œYes, sir,” Bruno said, “and it was slick as you please. Winston never laid a hand on him.”
    â€œWho was the stranger?”
    â€œI never got his name,” Bruno said, “but all the girls was buzzin’ around him, until he picked Rio.”
    When the sheriff got around to talking to the blonde, Santana, she said, “I heard him tell Rio his name was Clint.”
    â€œClint Adams,” Taylor said.
    â€œWhat?” Bruno asked. “Did you say Clint Adams? The Gunsmith?”
    Someone else at the bar heard that and said aloud, “You mean it was the Gunsmith who put Winston down? Hey.” He turned to face the room. “That fella was the Gunsmith.”
    â€œJesus,” another man said, “he coulda shot Winston dead easy.”
    â€œEverybody calm down,” Taylor said. “Nobody’s shootin’ nobody.”
    â€œHey, Sheriff,” Bruno said, “you oughta get the Gunsmith to help you when Ned Pine and his men get here.”
    â€œHey, that sounds like a good idea,” another man said.
    â€œWhy not?” Taylor replied. “I’m sure as hell not gettin’ any help from any of you.”
    â€œHey,” a man said, “it’s your job to face men like that, not ours.”
    â€œYou got that right, Leo,” Taylor said, recognizing the man as a do-nothing bigmouth. “Suppose you and some of your friends take Winston out of here and take him home. You can at least do that, can’t you?”
    â€œYeah, sure, Sheriff,” Leo said. “We’ll take care of ’im.”
    Taylor turned to Bruno.
    â€œAdams and Rio went to his hotel?”
    â€œThat’s where they were headed when they left here,” Bruno said.
    Taylor nodded and left without a further word.
    Â 
When they got back to his room, Clint and Rio frantically removed each other’s clothes and fell onto the bed locked in a hot embrace. Hot mostly because the girl’s skin burned like fire. The only heat that was more intense was the heat coming from her crotch. Clint placed his palm over her pubic thatch and swore it almost burned his skin.
    â€œYou must be a joy to have around on a cold winter’s night,” he said to her.
    She laughed deep in her throat and said, “I can keep a man warm in the middle of a blizzard.”
    â€œI believe it,” he said.
    He rolled her onto her back and took her full breasts into his hands. Her nipples were dark brown, a perfect match for her dusky skin. Her long hair was black as coal, and if it was possible, her pubic hair was even blacker— and there was a lot of it.
    â€œI like a full bush,” he told her, wrapping it around his fingers.
    â€œSometimes I think I should shave it,” she said with a sigh as his fingers probed her. “There are women who do that, you know.”
    â€œI vote no,” he said, sliding his middle finger along her wet slit. “It’s perfect just the way it is.”
    She arched her back as he continued to finger her. At the same time, he leaned over to kiss and lick her nipples, which grew turgid and chewable, so he obliged.
    She reached between them to take hold of his swollen penis and press it to her hot and wet vagina. She was impatient for him inside her, so again he obliged the lady. He moved his hips and was