Free Slocum and the Hellfire Harem (9781101613382) by Jake Logan

faintest of scuffing sounds some hours later that snapped his eyes open. Even before he grew fully awake, recognition became action and he slid his Colt Navy free from the holster where it lay in his coiled gun belt, close by his side. There it was again, a rustling, dragging sound. A snooping coyote? Doubtful. Rattler? Possible, then he thought for certain he heard someone swallow, a breath, faint but possible . . .
    He cranked the hammer back. “Who’s there?” he hissed, keeping low so spillover from the moonlight angling in through the open double doors—the doors themselves were long gone—didn’t give him away.
    â€œMr. Slocum?” came the whispered reply. “Don’t shoot.”
    â€œRuth?”
    She stepped into the light, and it shone through a light cotton nightgown, outlining her full form, and leaving little unimagined. She walked toward him. “Where are you?”
    He sighed, eased the hammer back down, and holstered the Colt. “What do you think you’re up to? Slinking around in the dark is a surefire way of getting shot.”
    â€œOh, you wouldn’t shoot me, Mr. Slocum.”
    â€œDon’t be so sure. I may have killed for less than waking me up—you never know.” He lay back down, his hands behind his head. “I was having such a nice dream, too.”
    He heard a quick fluttering sound, then felt her presence close by, even though he couldn’t see much since she’d stepped away from the door and toward him into the darkened barn.
    â€œAs nice as this?” she whispered, closer than ever. He felt her breasts brush his bare arm and chest, her long hair against his face, her breath reminding him of mint somehow. Their lips brushed awkwardly, found each other, then he felt her tongue tip dart into his mouth, circle his lips. He felt himself thicken, his denims suddenly tight. Her fingers worked down there, alternately kneading and groping for the buttons, as he reached up and ran his callused hands along the smooth plane of her shoulders and back.
    Slight sighing sounds escaped from her busy mouth. She managed to undo his buttons and helped him pull the jeans down. He freed one leg, though he wanted to work them off fully, but Ruth was having none of it. She climbed aboard him and trailed her busy mouth quickly down his chest, his belly, and wasted no time in engulfing his stiffest part in her warm, seeking mouth.
    Up and down she worked him in a stunning rhythm, her teeth just scraping enough to tantalize him further. She let him go and licked him up and down as though it were a peppermint stick, a purring sound growing in her throat. His hands were tangled in her hair and his breath rasped. All too soon he had to ease her from her task.
    â€œWhoa, girl. I might end up shooting you accidentally.”
    â€œCan’t have that, Mr. Slocum.”
    Before he could answer, she worked her way back up and that magic tongue darted in between his teeth again as she lowered herself onto him, impaling with a sigh. As she sank down the length of his shaft, she trembled atop him, gripping his bottom lip lightly between her own and pausing there for just a moment.
    He reached down the length of her again and massaged the velvety smooth swells of her backside. Then, as if by agreement, they each began to move in opposing but wholly comfortable directions, faster and faster. Soon, she sat up, arching her back and kneading his chest with her palms.
    Her breath came in short gasps and then their motions grew tighter, shorter until together they paused, her fingers digging into his torso, his hands holding her tight to him. Then, with a gasp, she shoved herself up, then straight down on him. She gripped him hard down there, everything about her tense and trembling, before collapsing onto his chest, breathing hard but silently.
    They stayed that way for some minutes, neither wanting to move. The night was cool but he felt her body