“Actually,” he said, glancing past her to see the fading lights of Denver through the rain-streaked windows, “I spend a lot of my life doing boring things. Sometimes, though, things do get exciting when I’m somewhere tracking a man down.”
She leaned forward. “Is it the hunt and then the kill that you find so exciting?”
“No, it’s the challenge of trying to outguess and outwit a fugitive from the law.” Longarm considered the matter carefully. “Diana, I’ve never really thought about it much, but I’d say the most challenging part is trying to outguess and then capture an outlaw rather than just kill him that makes it such a challenge.”
“Have you ‘outguessed’ me?” Diana asked.
“Why should I? You’re not the fugitive.”
She came over to stand before him, chest pushed out, eyes bold. “Has it ever occurred to you that I might have been part of Nathan’s plot?”
“No,” he said without hesitation. “It’s plain to see that you hate Nathan Cox.”
Diana seemed pleased by his answer. “Well then, can you at least guess what I’m up to?”
“You want the reward money,” Longarm said matter-of-factly. “Fifteen thousand dollars is enough to set yourself up for life—if you don’t get messed up with another crook like Cox or spend it all foolishly.”
“But I like to be foolish,” she said, placing her hands on his chest and rubbing the nipples through the fabric of his shirt. “Wild, foolish, and wicked.”
Longarm placed his glass of bourbon down on the polished mahogany bar and collected Diana in his arms. “I think you are probably as immoral as Governor Ganzel and that you have a perverse passion about collecting men.”
She leaned in close and nuzzled his ear, her breath hot. “Is that your honest opinion?”
“Yep. You collect men like some women collect plates or silver spoons. You’ll take a common working guy like me, but you prefer rich, powerful, or at least influential men. Politicians, probably judges, ranchers, and I’ll bet you’ve even collected a successful preacher or two.”
She laughed coarsely, and her hand encircled his waist as she pressed her hips hard against his own. “Marshal Long, you really do understand me.”
“I understand that you collect all the wrong kinds of men for all the wrong reasons.”
“Maybe that’s about to change,” she said a moment before she kissed him wetly.
Longarm knew it was crazy to mix business and pleasure—and he sure didn’t want to be added to Diana’s collection—but this woman made his senses reel and his manhood throb with desire. That being the case, he pulled her coat off and then undressed her as Diana began to moan and fumble with the buttons of his pants.
When Diana’s dress and then her underclothes fell to her ankles, Longarm whispered, “Why don’t we try the governor’s plush velvet couch?”
“We’ll like it,” she murmured as Longarm’s mouth found her small but firm breasts. He laved each one with his tongue until Diana’s nipples were hard and round.
Diana groaned with pleasure and at last had her hands on his manhood which she began to stroke lightly. Longarm unbuckled his cartridge belt and let it and his holstered gun drop to the richly carpeted floor. The coach was swaying and his senses were reeling, but Longarm planted his feet wide and let the woman drop his pants.
“If we lose our balance and fall with our clothes draped around our ankles, we’ll both break our necks,” Diana giggled.
Longarm was of the same opinion. He pulled back and sat down heavily on the couch, tearing off his boots, pants, and underclothes.
“My, my!” Diana said, staring at his thick and stiff manhood even as she kicked off the last traces of her underclothing and fell back on the opposite couch. “I think we are going to have a real fun trip to Cheyenne.”
“Too bad it isn’t farther,” Longarm said as he rushed across the coach and eagerly mounted the woman.
Diana giggled and wrapped her long, lovely legs around his back. Her pretty face assumed a dreamy expression as she closed her eyes and then bit her lower lip before saying, “Please, don’t start humping me yet.”
Longarm, who had already enjoyed giving the woman several strong thrusts, paused and said, “What?”
“Just let the rocking of the train drive us both slowly insane,” she explained. “Marshal, I swear that is the most heavenly way.”
“It could take an hour.”
She opened her green eyes and stroked his bare buttocks. “We’ve got plenty of time, lawman, so just hold your fire. Please?”
“I’ll try, but no promises.”
And right about then, either the train started going over some rough track or Longarm started imagining sensations, because what happened over the next hour was like the slow buildup and then the eruption of twin volcanos. Still far, far south of the Wyoming border, both Longarm and Diana lost control and began to thrust about wildly until their juices flowed like hot lava and they roared back at the storm, clutching and slamming against each other until they slipped off the governor’s couch and sprawled on the deep carpet.
“What did I tell you?” she said, kissing his face.
“You perfected this with Governor Ganzel?”
“Uh-huh. Correction. I only thought we had perfected it until now.”
“It was good, huh?”
“Oh, yes,” Diana sighed. “And the best part is that we still have hours and hours before reaching Cheyenne.”
Longarm heard a huge clap of lightning and the roll of prairie thunder. “Diana, up in the locomotive, some poor engineer and coal tender are freezing and trying to stay dry. But back here we’re living out a fantasy. All the good liquor we want, two soft velvet couches to mess up a little … and each other.”
“The last part is the best part,” she said, tracing a puckered scar on his left shoulder. “What happened here?”
“Bullet.” He climbed off her and she stood up too, tall, slender, and desirable.
“And here,” she said, tracing a nasty scar across his ribs.
“Knife fight.”
“What about down here,” Diana said, her eyes lowering to his stiff, tumescent manhood which she took in her hands. “Any scars?”
“I don’t know,” he said with amusement. “It’s hard used and worn some, but can’t remember any wounds.”
“I’d better check and see for sure,” Diana told him as she dropped down to her knees.
Longarm sighed and stroked her lovely hair. “Honey,” he said, “you can just check it out all you like.”
Diana giggled. “I’m a wicked, wicked girl, remember? And I do like.”
Longarm closed his eyes and let her enjoy herself all she wanted.
Chapter 4
It was dark and still pouring rain when Longarm and Diana Frank reached Cheyenne and ducked into the train station, where they were immediately surrounded by four federal agents, none of whom Longarm recognized.
“Who is she?” a tall, grim-faced man in his fifties demanded to know.
“Who are you?” Longarm shot back.
The man’s eyes flashed with annoyance. He glanced at his three grim companions and then back to Longarm before dragging out his badge. “I’m Federal Treasury Agent Supervisor Vincent Blake. These men are my agents—Matthews, Pollack, and Jones. We have identification.”
“Not necessary,” Longarm said, waving the offer aside. “As you have correctly guessed, I’m Deputy Marshal Custis Long, and this is my friend, Miss Diana Frank.”
The four feds gave Diana better than a good looking over, and then Blake said, “We weren’t expecting you to bring company. Nobody said anything about a woman.”
“That’s rather surprising,” Diana said acidly. “I would have imagined that the telegraph lines between Denver and Cheyenne would have been fairly buzzing with juicy gossip.”