“Oh, we’re not exactly alike anywhere,” Julie said.
“But it takes a very close examination to spot some of the differences,” added Janice.
Longarm grinned. “Well, then, I reckon I’d better keep investigating.”
They came toward him, Janice’s breasts bobbing a little, Julie’s firmer. Each of them took one of his hands. “There’ll be time for that later,” Julie said, “after we get you out of these clothes.”
They began undressing him, and the flawless way they worked together told Longarm they had done this before. Julie opened the buttons of his shirt and peeled it back, then twined her fingers in the thick mat of hair on his chest and lowered her lips to one of his nipples. At the same time, Janice slid his trousers down over his hips, and his shaft finally sprang free. She took his manhood in her hand, caressing it in a pumping motion that set Longarm to quivering all over.
“Come on,” Julie whispered. “Let’s get to bed.”
That sounded like a mighty fine idea to Longarm.
Chapter 9
There was one thing to be said for those Cassidy girls, Longarm told himself later, They were sure as hell inventive.
Over the next few hours, the three of them coupled in just about every way they conceivably could. Janice and Julie caressed each other a little in the process, but mostly they devoted their attentions to Longarm. At one point, he found himself flat on his back while Janice rode gasping in ecstasy on his burgeoning pole. At the same time, Julie straddled his head so that his tongue could probe the hot, wet folds of her feminine flesh. She let out muffled half-screams as Longarm worked his magic on her. While he was doing that, Janice’s hips pumped harder and harder until he could no longer hold back his climax. He emptied himself into her in long, throbbing spurts as her sister reached down and grabbed his head so that she could grind her mound against his face.
A man could die mighty happy this way, Longarm decided.
Finally there was no way any of them could continue, so they lay there cuddled together in a tangle of sheets and sweat-sheened flesh. Each of the sisters had a soft thigh flung over Longarm’s legs. He put his arms around them and fondled a breast with each hand. He recalled hearing a fella use the phrase “an embarrassment of riches” one time, and now Longarm surely knew what that gent was talking about. He heaved a long sigh.
“That was heavenly, Custis,” Julie said after echoing his sigh. “We’ll have to do it again.” Longarm let out a groan.
Julie laughed. “I didn’t mean right now,” she assured him.
Janice reached down and let her long fingernails trail through the tangle of dark brown hair at his groin. “Do you think Senator Padgett is in such danger that you’ll have to travel with us all the way to Denver?”
Longarm frowned a little and asked, “Who said the senator was in danger? I reckon that’s why I’m along, to keep any trouble from cropping up.”
“Well, that’s what I mean, of course,” Janice said. “And you seem to be doing an excellent job.”
Longarm shrugged awkwardly, considering his position. His shoulders nudged a breast on either side of him. “I’ll stay with the senator until my boss tells me to do otherwise.”
“Good!” Julie said. “That means we’ll have more opportunities to do things like this.”
Her fingers closed around his shaft, which he had been certain would be dormant for a while longer. To his surprise—and to the delight of Julie and Janice—it began thickening and lengthening again, the heat of Julie’s caress making his manhood grow the way the warmth of the sun touched the seeds in the ground and brought forth wildflowers.
As it turned out, Longarm didn’t get back to his own room until nearly dawn. Senator Padgett was still snoring next door. Longarm stripped off his clothes, fell facedown in the bed, and let oblivion claim him.
Matador, owned by the Cassidy sisters, finished second in the El Paso race, and Senator Padgett’s Caesar finished third. The third-place finish was enough to placate the senator somewhat, although he made it plain in his remarks to Cy and O’Malley after the race that he expected to win at least once before they reached the end of the circuit. For their part, Janice and Julie were thrilled that Matador had come in second. When Longarm visited with them right after the race, both young women kissed him soundly in their excitement. “If Matador can just win a couple of races,” Julie said, “we’ll have enough money to make the improvements we want to make on the farm.”
“We’ll have a start,” corrected Janice. “It’s going to take a lot of money to put the place back the way it used to be when Papa was alive.”
During the past couple of days, Longarm had spent as much time as he could with the Cassidy sisters and had learned how their father had established the horse farm in Missouri and how their mother had died when the girls were young. Janice had gone away to a fancy finishing school back East, while Julie had stayed on the farm to help their father run it. Things had gone downhill after he’d been kicked in the head by a balky mare and died shortly thereafter from the injury. Janice had returned from school to run the business end of the operation while Julie continued working with the horses. But they’d had a tough time making a go of it. Matador was the best colt they’d had so far, as well as their best hope of getting the farm back on its feet financially. Longarm wished them luck. If it came down to a close finish between Matador and Caesar, he was going to root for Matador. Padgett didn’t really need the prize money, at least as far as Longarm knew.
By nightfall, the owners, trainers, jockeys, and horses were all on a westbound train rolling across the desolate landscape of southern New Mexico, heading for Arizona and the racing circuit’s next stop in Tucson. The Apache Stakes, Senator Padgett called the race that evening as he and Longarm and Leon Mercer sat in the club car. Padgett had a glass of whiskey in his hand.
“I’ve heard of Apaches staking folks out, but it didn’t have anything to do with horse racing,” Longarm said dryly.
Padgett chuckled. “No, I imagine not. The only torture at this race will be waiting to see whether or not Caesar actually wins for a change.” A frown replaced the jocular expression on the senator’s beefy face. “If he doesn’t, I may have to give some thought to finding a new rider.”
It was typical of Padgett to place all the blame for Caesar’s showing in the races on Cy. The man wasn’t about to admit, even to himself, that the other horses might just be faster.
Padgett looked at Longarm and changed the subject by saying quietly, “It’s been several days now, and there haven’t been any more attempts on my life. When we get to Tucson, don’t you think you should wire Marshal Vail and see if he wants you to continue with this assignment?”
Longarm shrugged. “I’ll be checking in with Billy anyway. If he wants to pull me off this job, he’ll tell me.”
“I’m convinced that man in Albuquerque was simply demented. Obviously he hasn’t followed us.”
It was true enough that the few days in El Paso had passed quite peacefully, with the exception of the gunfight in the Crystal Star saloon—but Padgett didn’t know anything about that. It hadn’t had anything to do with the assassination attempt in Albuquerque.