"So much for Mrs. Singing Rabbit's cavernous defect," Trish cut in. "Now tell me about your two bastards."
"Some friends of mine got their tails locked up in the Timber City clink," Bruce explained. "Joe
Dooley and Felix Wellman. I'll have to hump it across the mountain and bail them out."
Breath hissed out of Trish. "Let's go."
Bruce shook his head. "I don't think it would be a good idea to take you along, little lady. Joe Dooley isn't very good company when he's smashed." His eyes caressed her. "Would you mind making yourself at home in my house until I return?"
Trish eyed him speculatively. "I wouldn't mind making myself at home longer than that, Bruce."
Bruce snapped at the juicy carrot she was dangling before him. His glance dropped to her breasts, and his voice turned husky with emotion. "I can pick up your luggage at the hotel on my way back."
"I'd like that."
"Consider it done." He shifted his attention back to Gabe. "Make this little doll comfortable, and take good care of her until I come home, will you?"
"I'll do that, boss," Gabe promised. He waited for Bruce to turn his back to them. Then he ran his hand under the back of Trish's skirt, hugged her ass with his fingers and added, "I sure as hell will take good care of her."
Chapter 6
Bruce Cord's face crumpled in a pleased smile as he watched Trish emerge from the bathroom clad only in spikes, nylons and a black garter belt that contrasted sharply but enticingly with her flawless white skin. He shook his head in a gesture of awe and remarked, "Nearly two months of fucking it up with you, and I still can't seem to get enough of your hot little body. A minx, that's what you are." He paused to feast his hungry eyes on her lush curves, then growled, "Come here."
Trish stopped in the middle of the elaborate bedroom. She stood with her shapely legs slightly scissored and treated him to a generous glimpse of her copper-colored cunt mound. She dug her hands into the flesh of her slender hips and moistened her ripe red lips with the tip of her tongue. Amusement danced in her eyes as she shook her magnificent breasts at him and said, "Why should I come to you? It would be a wasted walk, and you know it. You talk a good game, but that's about all. Look at what happened last night." She made a derisive sound. "Some cowboy! One ride and you hung up your saddle." "One ride was enough," Bruce said on the heel of a healthy chuckle. "I fucked you for over twenty minutes. Every time I'd get ready to shoot my load, you'd stop wriggling that pretty tail of yours to keep me from doing my thing."
"You lie like a rug, clodhopper," Trish retorted as her glance dropped to the prominent bulge in the crotch of Bruce's sand-colored pants. "What happened was your own damn fault." A sharp intake of breath rocked her breasts. "Do you know why it took you so long to get your jollies?"
"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me. Go ahead; let it all hang out."
"You asked for it," Trish purred, her eyes never leaving his cloth-covered erection. "I'm telling it like it is. It's a case of your eyes being bigger than your libido. In short, I think you're over the hill."
Bruce reacted instantly to her teasing aspersion against his virility.
"Over the hill am I?" he growled as he sprang forward and trapped her in his arms. "Let me bury this stiff bone of mine in that tight little twat of yours, and then tell me I'm over the hill, you sexy little bitch. Only try to do it with a straight face huh?"
Trish felt his stiff cockshaft make contact with her exposed quim, and an unexpected shiver of excitement charged through her system. Laughter rippled past her slightly parted lips as he scooped her up in his powerful arms and started toward the king-sized bed, but a moment later she sobered and hissed, "No, you maniac. Not now. There isn't time for a long-winded game of hide the baloney."
Bruce lowered her writhing flesh to the huge bed and reached for his belt buckle, then said with mock truculence, "I don't want to hear it, lady. Mrs. Singing Rabbit won't be back from visiting her sister on the reservation until some time this evening. As for that pussy-whipped joker I hired so I could spend more time with you, Gabe will probably try to dick every damn one of Stella Roller's house girls before he decides to come back to this ranch and make like a foreman." He grinned lewdly, smacked his lips. "So save your breath for panting, Trish. There's time. When it comes to going the passion route with you, there's always time."
That's what you think, Trish told herself as she watched Bruce's pants drop down around his ankles, and his impressive cock sprang into view. There's time, all right, but not much of it left for you. One break, and you'll be going to Stella Roller's for your pussy. Any day now Gabe will find that bag of money Hank Lockridge salted away, and when it happens, you can lick the egg from your face while we cut out for the bright lights.
"Lecherous beast," Trish shrilled, getting back to her game of pretend as Bruce finished undressing and stretched out beside her. "I knew you'd end up doing this to me."
"Correction," Bruce retorted as he raked the heel of his right hand over her jutting pink clit and made her shudder. "When you walked out of the bathroom half-undressed, you were hoping I'd end up seducing your pretty ass."
Hoping had nothing to do with it, you dumb hayseed, Trish's mind retorted. I knew what I was doing. When it comes to keeping your ass out of the fields, especially the section you call Lonesome Valley, I always know what I'm doing. With you, that's easy; you're so goddamned predictable it makes me want to puke.
And aloud she said, "You're pretty smart for a country boy." She coiled her warm arms around Bruce's neck and drew his passion-flushed face down to her naked, heaving breasts. "I guess that's why I love you so madly."
Bruce licked her coral-pink nipples into full blossom, then raised his head and smirked at her. "I know you admire my brain power, but why else do you love me?"
My aching ass, Trish thought with an inward groan. Here we go again! Every damn time we fuck this damn idiot makes like a bad echo of himself with that why-else-do-you-love-me routine of his. Ah, well, I won't have to listen to or put up with his shit very much longer. Gabe will find that bag of money any day now, and then it will be- Bruce cut into her thoughts by asking again, "Why else do you love me, wanton? "He sounded like a little boy in need of a titty to suck on. Trish stuck her tongue out at him. "I'll never tell."
Bruce smiled wickedly. "No? We'll see about that, little bitch. You've got five seconds to change your mind and talk."
She moistened her lips. "What happens if I let the clock run out?"
"I'll take this cock of mine to Stella Roller's house of ill repute for softening, that's what will happen." His glance moved to the dresser clock, then back to her. "Your time's almost up. Why else do you love me?"
Shadows of secret amusement danced in Trish's eyes as she dropped one arm from around Bruce's neck and groped for his turgid organ. She knew how to play this silly game of his; she was the one who had taught it to him. She gripped his rock-hard prick at its base and murmured, "Here's the biggest reason of them all, lover, and I do mean big. So fucking much hard and delicious sausage. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"Yep."
She tightened her grip on his pulsing cock. "All right, you heard it. Now maybe you'll stop acting like a bashful kid on the verge of losing his cherry long enough to scratch the itch you put in my tush with this juicy muscle I'm holding in my hot little hand."
Trish wanted to put an end to the silly game.
Bruce wasn't ready to end it. He cocked an amused eyebrow at her. "Thought you said there wasn't time for hanky-panky.''
"Stop teasing me, damn you!" Trish hissed. "I've got the heat, and it's up to you to cool me off!" She spread her legs and tugged on his drooling dong until he climbed between them. She expertly guided its velvety knob to the dampening lips of her pussy and whispered harshly. "Do your thing, cowboy. Climb into the saddle and ride me. Now, now!"