She held his gaze. Her lips opened slightly.
Then she sat back a little, crossed her arms on her belly, and leaned toward the fire as if she’d suddenly become chilled, though the day’s heat lingered. Her cheeks had flushed again, and he thought her chest rose and fell more heavily.
“Ain’t no doors out here, Haven.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked crisply.
“No doors, no walls.”
“You believe in mixing business and pleasure?” Now her voice was haughty with reprimand.
“When the sun goes down, I figure I’m off duty.”
She sighed and raised her knees. She wrapped her arms around her legs, rested her chin on her knees, and stared into the fire. Since the conversation appeared to be over, Longarm pulled his hat brim down over his eyes and drew a deep breath to try to rid his mind of the image of her naked and writhing beneath him.
But then she said just as softly as before, “I’d like to suck your cock again, damn you.”
Chapter 18
Just then one of the horses whinnied.
If at anytime in his life Longarm would have done something as melodramatic as to shake his fist and scream at the cosmos, it would have been then. Haven gasped and turned toward where they’d hobbled the beasts in the near wash, to her right and behind her.
Longarm bit out a curse and gained his feet, his Colt already in his right fist, the hammer cocked. His heart thudded not from fear but from the soft echo in his head of her last words to him, just before she’d started to crawl toward him.
And then the fucking horse had whinnied.
“Stay here,” he said softly, stepping wide around the fire, careful not to kick their gear.
Quietly, he stepped through some scraggly mesquite and willows lining the wash and saw the dark shadows of the horses standing before him, head to toe, both switching their tails. Longarm’s own horse faced him, but it was craning its neck to look behind, in the direction in which Haven’s steeldust was staring, twitching its ears.
“Easy,” Longarm whispered, running a hand down along roan’s back as he moved up past it and into the mouth of a smaller feeder wash angling off to the south.
He pricked his ears, listening closely to what the night had to tell him. There was nothing but the yammering of distant coyotes, the hooting of an owl, and the occasional murmur of a vagrant breeze scratching branches together, buffeting slim desert leaves.
He walked several yards into the narrow wash and stopped when he was halfway around a bend. A mewling sounded before him, startling him and causing him to tighten his trigger finger, but he stopped short of firing.
Two coyote-shaped shadows were milling around before him.
One turned its head toward him. Longarm could see the pointed ears and the starlight glistening in one of its eyes. The coyote gave a deep, feral growl and then yipped sharply, frustrated, and wheeled and thrashed some mesquite branches.
Both night hunters were both gone just as suddenly as Longarm had come upon them.
He moved forward and found what had lured them here. A dead fawn. Or what was left of it. They might have dragged it here or found it here, likely carried here by the spring floodwaters.
Longarm walked back the two, still-edgy horses, patting them both to silence, and then returned to the camp. Haven stood at the edge of the firelight, looking toward him, her arms crossed on her chest, her LeMats in her hands, their barrels resting against her shoulders.
“Anything?”
“Coyote.” Longarm had holstered his own Colt. He stopped in front of her, looked down at her. “Now, where were we?”
She stared up at him. As far as he could tell in the darkness, with the fire behind her, her face wore no expression whatever.
Slowly, she uncrossed her arms, shoved her LeMats down into their holsters slung low on her curving, slender hips. She unbuckled her cartridge belt and set it down with her gear near the fire, and then turned to him and kicked out of her boots before beginning to unbutton her blouse.
Longarm stood staring at her, his muscles having turned to stone. His heart thudded. And then as she removed her blouse to show a thin, pink chemise beneath, her nipples poking hard against the sheer fabric, he quickly unbuckled his own cartridge belt, swiped his hat off his head, and kicked out of his boots.
He was naked in under a minute. She was a little slower, more methodical, but she soon stood naked before him, beside the fire, which burnished the near side of her body with copper, casting shadow over the other half. Her breasts were dark cones jutting toward him.
Longarm walked toward her, his cock hard and angling nearly straight up.
He stopped before her, until the head of his cock was touching her warm, flat belly. The feel of her flesh against his shaft caused excitement to ripple up the backs of his legs. She wrapped both hands around it lightly.
“Wait,” she said in a soft, raspy voice.
She walked over and retrieved his brown frock coat, brought it back, and spread it on the ground in front of him. She knelt on the coat, so that her head was a foot away from his cock, and then she wrapped her arms around his legs, and placed her hands on his buttocks.
He heard a very faint wet crackling when she parted her lips and moved her head forward. It was dark between them so he couldn’t see well down past his belly, and he sucked a sharp breath when he felt her tongue touch the head of his cock. He held his breath when she slid her tongue up over the orifice and across the top of the swollen, throbbing head.
Swirling her tongue slowly, she licked every inch of the head of his cock, bathing it in her hot saliva.
After several minutes of this harrowing torture, which he endured with his fists clenched at his sides, heels grinding into the sandy ground under his bare feet, she closed her mouth over the head. Soft warmth engulfed him. He tightened his jaws. Moving her head toward his crotch, she slid her mouth with excruciating slowness down the length of him toward his balls.
When he could feel his cock in the tightness of her throat, she stopped, gagged, jerking her head and shoulders slightly, but held him there taut against her tonsils. He could feel her saliva trickling down from her mouth and warming nearly ever inch of him lodged in her throat.
She squirmed and groaned and then slid her mouth back and off him, drawing a deep, liquid breath, gasping and pumping him with one hand while she gazed up at him.
“So big. You’re so fucking big.”
Longarm groaned.
She continued to pump him slowly with her soft, gentle hands while she gazed up at him from her knees, her eyes showing blue-green in the starlight. “I’ve thought about that night in Leadville many times. I’m going to think about it many times more before I die. You’re the most man I’ve ever had.”
She kissed his cock, caressed it with her cheek and then cupped his heavy balls in both her hands, staring up at him once more. “It was the most satisfying experience I’ve ever had with any man. The awful thing about it, though, is that it’s all I can think about now. I keep wanting to be so completely filled again. That’s why I’ve been so…moody. I haven’t meant to be, Custis. Can I call you Custis?”
She seemed to be waiting for an answer to the question.
He said, “Don’t see why not,” in a pinched voice, grinding his heels back into the sand while she hefted his balls in her hands and sucked the head of his cock with passion, groaning.
She pulled her mouth off him with a slight popping sound and smacked her lips together, drawing a breath between her wet, shiny lips. “It’s just that I’ve never had such complete pleasure, and this need for it again…and again…and again…” She shook her head as though deeply confounded. “I just don’t understand it. It frightens me!”