Free Way with a Gun by J. R. Roberts Page B

hold his head in place while he lapped at her. She lifted her knees to give him better access to her, and with her other hand gathered a handful of the sheets in her fist.
    She’d never had a man be so concerned with her pleasure before his own. This was a rare man who had walked into the saloon tonight unexpectedly. He had fought for her—a fight that had, in itself, excited her tremendously— taken her back to his room, and given her more pleasure than she’d ever known. She was determined to enjoy every moment of it, and for the rest of the night make sure that he enjoyed it too.
    If it was possible, she was going to make sure he couldn’t walk out of the room.

TWENTY-FIVE
    Clint and the sheriff had made tentative plans to have breakfast together the next morning to discuss strategy. Rio had left before the sun came up—after they’d had sex over and over again—and when the knock came at his door, Clint wasn’t sure his legs would take him there.
    If history was any indicator, it was either the sheriff or his wife. He still took his gun with him, though, when he answered the door while wrapped in the bedsheet.
    â€œNot interrupting anythin’, am I?” Andy Taylor asked.
    Clint looked around at his empty room and said, “No, you’re not.”
    â€œToo early for breakfast?”
    â€œJust give me a few minutes.”
    â€œThere’s a café down the street, serves a fair breakfast, although I wouldn’t eat anything else there if I was you.”
    â€œI’ll keep that in mind,” Clint said. “I’ll meet you there. Order me steak and eggs and lots of hot, strong coffee.”
    â€œComin’ up.”
    Clint closed the door and started to look around the room for his pants.
    The smell of coffee hit him as he entered the small café. There were several tables taken, and in the back sat Sheriff Taylor.
    â€œI thought you’d like an isolated table,” the lawman said.
    â€œThanks,” Clint said. “And thanks for this,” he added, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the pot on the table.
    â€œLong night?”
    â€œVery long.”
    â€œI understand you had a run-in at the saloon.”
    Clint regarded Taylor over the rim of his coffee mug.
    â€œYou heard about that, huh?”
    â€œI checked on Winston this morning,” the sheriff said. “He’s gonna be okay. You broke his jaw.”
    Clint winced. “I’m sorry about that,” he said. “He pushed.”
    â€œI heard,” Taylor said. “I came to your room last night, but it sounded like you were busy.”
    â€œI was occupied,” Clint said. “What’d you want last night?”
    â€œJust to check on you and make sure you were okay,” the sheriff said.
    â€œWell, I appreciate that, Sheriff.”
    A waiter came with two plates of steak and eggs and set them down in front of the men. At first bite Clint realized Taylor was right. The food was only fair, but the coffee was good and Clint ordered another pot.
    â€œYour wife doesn’t mind you going out for breakfast?” Clint asked.
    â€œShe’s not cookin’ me breakfast much these days,” Taylor said.
    â€œThat right? Well, I guess there are problems in all marriages at one time or another.”
    â€œI’m not gonna worry about that unless I come out of this alive.”
    â€œSounds like good logic to me.”
    Clint wondered if the sheriff knew that his wife had come to see him last night. There was nothing in his demeanor to indicate that he did, but who knew?
    â€œWhat’s on your mind for today?” Taylor asked.
    â€œWhen’s Pine due?”
    â€œTomorrow, I guess, or maybe the next day,” Taylor said with a shrug. “No later.”
    â€œWe better go around town and see if we can drum up some help.”
    â€œI’ve been all over town twice,” the lawman said. “Nobody’s