Free Standoff in Santa Fe by J. R. Roberts Page B

his hips, and she simply kept her mouth open and let him fuck it, in and out, in and out . . .
    Finally, she cradled his balls in her hand, at the same time teasing his anus with one finger. He reached down and pushed her away.
    â€œNone of that!” he said. “Don’t touch my asshole!”
    â€œHey,” she said, “whatever you want, sweetie. And you just tell me what you don’t want.”
    â€œI don’t want anybody touchin’ my bumhole. Got it?”
    â€œI got it,” she said, getting to her feet warily. “Come on, get on the bed, honey. I’ll make you feel real good.”
    She reached down, helped him step out of his pants. She sat him on the bed and took off his boots and socks. When he was completely naked, she got him onto his back. His cock stuck straight up impressively.
    â€œOh yes,” she said, straddling him . . .
    *   *   *
    â€œMaybe you should go up and talk to Conlon again,” Bat said to Clint.
    â€œOr the woman,” Luke said.
    â€œHer name’s Alicia,” Clint said.
    â€œOh,” Luke said, “excuse me.”
    â€œBat, I think you should go up,” Clint said. “I have to finish my rounds with young Thad here.”
    â€œHuh?” Thad said. “Oh, uh, yeah, we do.”
    â€œSee?” Clint said.
    â€œIf I go up there,” Bat said, “I’ll end up killin’ the sonofabitch.” He looked at Luke Short.
    â€œDon’t look at me,” Short said, shaking his head. “I’m very happy to stand here and drink with my friends. Or find a poker game.”
    Heck silently observed the conversation, keeping out of it while working on his beer. Like Luke Short, he was not becoming impatient with the situation.
    â€œCome on, Thad,” Clint said. “We’ve got work to do.”
    Clint left his friends to discuss the matter further, went out the batwing doors, pushing the young deputy ahead of him.

TWENTY-FOUR
    Craddock pinned the girl to the bed with his hands on her wrists, and his body on hers. She struggled, but only because she thought he wanted her to. She was still excited by being with a man who was known as a killer.
    When his penis entered her vagina forcefully, her eyes went wide and she gasped. After that, he began to pound away at her, harder and harder. She knew she was going to be sore, was going to come away from this with bruises and welts, but she didn’t care.
    Craddock the killer had chosen her!
    *   *   *
    â€œMaybe,” Bat said to Luke Short and Heck Thomas, “we can sneak back there and get a look at the body.”
    â€œTo what end?” Luke asked.
    â€œWell, once we’re sure he’s dead,” Bat said, “we can leave.”
    â€œWithout payin’ our respects?” Heck asked.
    â€œCome on,” Bat said, “when you think about it, how many of us do you think are actually here to do that? And what does it matter if we see him on our own, or with everyone else when the wake begins?”
    â€œIf it begins,” Luke said.
    â€œWhat are you sayin’?” Heck asked.
    â€œWhat if there’s no body?” Luke asked.
    â€œYou mean he’s not dead?” Heck asked.
    â€œAnd never was,” Bat said. “You know, that’s something Conlon would dream up to get himself some business.”
    â€œYeah, but then how does he explain it?” Heck asked.
    â€œHe just says he made a mistake,” Bat said.
    â€œSo you’re sayin’,” Heck went on, “that there is a body back there, but it’s not—”
    â€œExactly,” Luke Short.
    â€œThen he could just as well have said that Clint Adams, the Gunsmith, was dead, and everybody should come to his wake.”
    â€œExcept that when Clint heard that, he’d come, too,” Bat said.
    â€œSo you’re sayin’—” Heck said.
    â€œYup,”